Three Groups, One Verdict: Why We All Need the Gospel; Romans 2

Take a deep breath. I know last week's message was heavy. Some of you felt that weight, and you came forward afterward, sharing how the Word convicted you. That's a good thing—a sign that the Spirit is at work, that the gospel is doing its deep work in your heart.

But I also know there were some of you sitting there thinking, "Preach it, Pastor! Those people need to hear there is sin. Go ahead, go deeper, go harder." You were comfortable in your seat, pointing fingers at the "sinners out there" in Romans chapter 1.

I get it. I've been there.

It reminds me of the prophet Isaiah. For five chapters, he pronounced God's judgment on the people—their idolatry, their rebellion, their sin. He stood comfortably in his pulpit, pointing at everyone else. Then God touched his life in Isaiah 6, and suddenly he cried out, "Woe is me! I am undone! I am a man of unclean lips!" One moment with God's holiness, and Isaiah stopped seeing everyone else's sin and started seeing his own.

Or think about Jesus' story of the Pharisee and the tax collector. The Pharisee walked into the temple and prayed, "God, I thank You that I am not like other men—extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this tax collector." He compared himself downward and felt pretty good about his spiritual standing. Meanwhile, the tax collector couldn't even lift his eyes to heaven. He beat his chest and cried, "God, be merciful to me a sinner!" Jesus said that man went home justified.

Romans chapter 2 does the same thing to us. Paul has spent chapter 1 describing the sins of the "heathen"—those who actively suppress the truth and worship creation rather than the Creator. And if we're honest, some of us were cheering him on. "Yeah, Paul, lay it on them!"
But now Paul turns his attention to the moralist—the person who knows right and wrong, who can judge others, who sits comfortably in religious circles. And then he turns to the Hebrew—the one with the law of God, the Scriptures, the religious heritage.

His message is consistent: the wrath of God is upon everyone. No one stands righteous on their own. All of us stand in desperate need of God's mercy.

The question we have to ask ourselves today is simple but devastating: Could I be one of them? Do I see myself in one of these chapters?

And the answer has to be emphatically yes. Because if you don't see yourself as needing salvation—if you think you're the exception, the "good person," the one who has it figured out—then the gospel isn't for you. Not because God doesn't love you, but because you've convinced yourself you don't need a Savior.

 — "Therefore you are inexcusable, O man, whoever you are who judge, for in whatever you judge another, you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things."

Paul begins chapter 2 with a word that connects everything: "Therefore." Because of what he's just said about the heathen—their idolatry, their suppression of truth, their sinful practices—he now turns to a second group.

"Therefore you are inexcusable, O man, whoever you are who judge, for in whatever you judge another you condemn yourself; for you who judge practice the same things. But we know that the judgment of God is according to truth against those who practice such things. And do you think this, O man, you who judge those practicing such things, and doing the same, that you will escape the judgment of God?" (Romans 2:1-3)

Here's what Paul is saying: You sat there in chapter 1 saying "Amen" to that list of sins. You agreed with God's judgment on idolatry, sexual immorality, envy, murder, deceit. You nodded along, feeling righteous because you could identify sin in others.

But here's the trap: by your own judgments, you've condemned yourself.

Because you also break your own rules. You know lying is wrong, but you've told "little white lies." You know gossip is sin, but you've shared information that wasn't yours to share. You know you should honor God with your time, but you've binged Netflix while ignoring your Bible.

Your conscience accuses you. You've said to yourself, "Man, I shouldn't have done that. I wish I hadn't said that." By your very own words, you've judged yourself as being under sin.

The Trap of Comparison
The trap these moralists fell into was the trap of comparison. They depended on who they were looking at to feel good about themselves. "I'm not as bad as that person. I'm better than my neighbor. At least I'm not like those sinners in chapter 1."
But God's judgment doesn't work on a curve. He doesn't grade on comparison. He doesn't look at your sin next to someone else's and say, "Well, yours isn't as bad, so you're good."
Verse 2 says God's judgment is according to truth—according to what you actually do, not what you wish you did, not how you compare to others. God sees your deeds, your practices, your choices. And He judges accordingly.

Mistaking Patience for Approval
Here's where it gets really dangerous. Verse 4 asks a piercing question:
"Or do you despise the riches of His goodness, forbearance, and longsuffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leads you to repentance?"

Some of you are thinking, "Well, I've been living this way for years, and nothing bad has happened. I still have my job. My relationships are fine. God must be okay with it."
No, no, no. That's not patience—that's presumption. God isn't giving you time to prolong your sin; He's giving you time to repent of your sin. His goodness, His patience, His forbearance—these are all invitations to turn around, to come home, to change direction.
But if you harden your heart instead—if you keep sinning, keep ignoring the conviction, keep searing your conscience—verse 5 gives a terrifying warning:

"But in accordance with your hardness and your impenitent heart you are treasuring up for yourself wrath in the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment of God."
You're not getting away with anything. You're storing up judgment. Every day of unrepented sin is another deposit in your account of wrath. The patience of God isn't permission—it's an opportunity.

God's Fair Judgment
Verses 6-11 describe God's judgment in a way that's almost uncomfortable in its fairness:
"Who will render to each one according to his deeds: eternal life to those who by patient continuance in doing good seek for glory, honor, and immortality; but to those who are self-seeking and do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness—indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, on every soul of man who does evil, of the Jew first and also of the Greek; but glory, honor, and peace to everyone who works what is good, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. For there is no partiality with God."

God's judgment is:

• According to deeds — He sees what you actually do
• According to reason — It makes sense that those who choose evil receive wrath
• According to results — Your choices produce your eternal destination
• Without partiality — God doesn't play favorites

This last point is crucial. There is no partiality with God. He doesn't see color, religion, culture, or wealth the way we do. He doesn't give passes to religious people or wealthy people or "good" people. He simply sees everyone as under sin and judges each person according to what they know and what they've done.

The Conscience: An Unreliable Guide
Verse 15 introduces something important: the conscience.
"Who show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and between themselves their thoughts accusing or else excusing them."
God has written His law on every human heart. Even people who've never read the Bible know some things are wrong and some things are right. That's why cultures everywhere have concepts of murder being wrong, of honoring parents, of justice and mercy.
But here's the catch: our conscience isn't an ultimate guide. It can be seared, silenced, and corrupted.

A seared conscience — Like skin that's been burned so many times it no longer feels pain, a conscience that's repeatedly ignored eventually stops feeling conviction.
A silenced conscience — That voice that says "You should stop that" can be ignored until you don't hear it anymore. I've heard people say, "I don't hear God's voice like I used to." That's often because they stopped listening. God doesn't keep repeating Himself forever.
A corrupt conscience — Eventually, right can be called wrong and wrong can be called right. The conscience can become so twisted that it steers you away from God while calling it freedom.

This is why staying in God's Word is absolutely essential. The Word washes your mind. It recalibrates your conscience. It keeps you aligned with truth rather than with your ever-shifting feelings.

When you stop reading the Bible, you take the first step away from God. The conviction feels too heavy. The correction feels too frequent. You think, "I need a break from all this conviction." But that break is spiritual suicide.

That's why we teach book by book, chapter by chapter, verse by verse. You need the whole counsel of God—not just the light parts, but the heavy parts too. Not just grace, but judgment. Not just love, but holiness. All of it works together to shape you into the image of Christ.

Verse 16 reminds us that there's a day coming when God will judge the secrets of men. Those secret thoughts, those hidden desires, those private sins you think no one knows about—they'll all be brought into the light. The things you planned while sitting in church, the double life you thought you were hiding—God sees it all.

Now Paul turns to the third group—the religious elite. The ones who know Scripture, who have the law, who teach others.

"Indeed you are called a Jew, and rest on the law, and make your boast in God, and know His will, and approve the things that are excellent, being instructed out of the law, and are confident that you yourselves are a guide to the blind, a light to those who are in darkness, an instructor of the foolish, a teacher of babes, having the form of knowledge and truth in the law." (Romans 2:17-20)

This sounds impressive, doesn't it? These people know the Scriptures. They can quote verses. They understand theology. They teach others. They're confident in their spiritual knowledge.

But Paul has a devastating question:
"You, therefore, who teach another, do you not teach yourself?"
Jesus said something similar: "Why do you look at the speck in your brother's eye, but do not consider the plank in your own eye?" (Matthew 7:3)

Here's the issue: knowing more means more responsibility. If you've been given much, much is required. If you know the truth and don't live it, your knowledge becomes your condemnation.

Paul gets specific:
"You who preach that a man should not steal, do you steal? You who say, 'Do not commit adultery,' do you commit adultery? You who abhor idols, do you rob temples?" (Romans 2:21-22)

Ouch. The person who teaches honesty but fudges on their taxes. The person who preaches faithfulness but looks at pornography. The person who condemns idolatry but prioritizes money, comfort, and approval over God.

Then comes the most painful verse in this passage:
"For 'the name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you.'" (Romans 2:24)
Think about that. You who are supposed to represent God to the world—you who are supposed to be a light, a guide, a teacher—because of your hypocrisy, people are turning away from God. They look at your life and say, "If that's what a Christian looks like, I want nothing to do with it."

I remember growing up in Sunset Park, then moving to California where I got saved in high school. In 2000, my wife and I came back to New York, and I started attending Brooklyn College. I noticed something that broke my heart: Jewish men, who had the law, who knew God's commands, smoking weed in their cars. And I thought, "You're supposed to represent God! You're supposed to be a light!" But that's exactly what Paul is talking about here. When those who know God live like they don't know God, His name is dishonored among unbelievers.

Religious Rituals Don't Replace Obedience
Finally, Paul addresses those who rest on religious ordinances:
"For circumcision is indeed profitable if you keep the law; but if you are a breaker of the law, your circumcision has become uncircumcision." (Romans 2:25)

In our context, we might say: Baptism is profitable if you walk in obedience. Church attendance is profitable if you live out what you learn. Communion is profitable if you examine your heart. But if you're breaking God's commands—if you're living in disobedience—your religious rituals mean nothing.

You can be baptized twice, take communion weekly, attend church every Sunday, and still be a lawbreaker. The external markers of religion don't impress God when the heart is far from Him.

Verse 28-29 gives the conclusion:
"For he is not a Jew who is one outwardly, nor is circumcision that which is outward in the flesh; but he is a Jew who is one inwardly; and circumcision is that of the heart, in the Spirit, not in the letter; whose praise is not from men but from God."

God isn't looking for external religion. He's looking for internal transformation. He doesn't want your rituals—He wants your heart. He doesn't want your knowledge—He wants your obedience. He doesn't want your comparison to others—He wants your humility before Him.

So how does this land for us here in Brooklyn? How do we live this out in our daily lives?

1. Stop comparing yourself to others.
Brooklyn is a diverse place. You work with people from every background, every religion, every moral standard. It's easy to look at your coworker and think, "Well, at least I'm not like them." But that comparison is spiritual poison. It keeps you from seeing your own sin and running to grace. Instead of comparing, start examining. Let God's Word search your heart, not your neighbor's life.

2. Don't mistake God's patience for approval.
You're living in Brooklyn—maybe you're pursuing a career, building a life, chasing dreams. And because nothing terrible has happened, you assume God must be okay with your compromises. But His patience isn't permission—it's an invitation. He's giving you time to repent. Don't waste it.

3. Let your knowledge lead to obedience.
Maybe you're one of those believers who knows the Bible well. You've been in church for years. You can answer theological questions. But knowledge without obedience is worthless. The question isn't "What do you know?" but "Are you living what you know?" If you know God's commands, obey them. If you know God's character, trust it. If you know God's promises, claim them.

4. Examine your heart, not just your habits.
It's possible to do all the right things with a wrong heart. You can attend church, give your tithe, serve in ministry, and still be far from God. Ask yourself: Why do I do what I do? Is it for God's glory or my reputation? Is it out of love or obligation? Is it from a transformed heart or religious habit?

5. For those in Brooklyn specifically:
We live in a city of influencers, artists, entrepreneurs, and strivers. Everyone's trying to make a name for themselves. But God isn't impressed with your platform or your following. He's looking at your heart. In a borough that celebrates self-promotion, choose self-examination. In a culture that values external success, pursue internal transformation. Let your life in Brooklyn—your words, your choices, your relationships—point people to God, not away from Him.

Father, we come before You honestly. We admit that we fall easily into one—if not all—of these categories.

We've suppressed the truth You've given us. We've pointed fingers at others while ignoring our own sin. We've boasted in our knowledge while failing to obey. We've rested in our religious activities while our hearts wandered far from You.

Lord, help us to come to the end of ourselves. Like Isaiah, may we stop pointing fingers and start examining our own hearts. "Woe is me—I am undone. I am a man of unclean lips."
Thank You that when we confess our sins, You are faithful and just to forgive us and cleanse us from all unrighteousness. Thank You that the blood of Jesus covers every sin—the sins of the heathen, the hypocrite, and the religious alike.

Help us to accept the truth about ourselves so that we may receive the gift of grace. Help us to stop hiding behind comparison and start running toward the cross. Help us to stop trusting in our knowledge and start living in obedience. Help us to stop performing religion and start pursuing relationship.

We need You today. We need Your salvation. We need Your mercy. We need Your grace.
In Jesus' name we pray, Amen.

Judgment condemns; discernment observes. Judgment says, "You're going to hell"; discernment says, "That behavior isn't healthy." Judgment compares and feels superior; discernment recognizes truth without pride. We're called to discern right from wrong, but we're forbidden from playing God in others' lives.

If you can sin without any sense of conviction, if things that used to bother you no longer do, if you've stopped feeling guilt when you disobey God—these are signs your conscience may be seared. The solution is to return to God's Word and ask the Spirit to soften your heart again.

Romans 2 doesn't address losing salvation but reveals who truly has it. Those with genuine salvation will eventually produce genuine obedience. Hypocrisy doesn't cause you to lose salvation—it reveals you never had it. But here's the good news: genuine repentance is always possible while you're still breathing.


No—Paul is establishing why we all need grace. He's not saying good works save us; he's showing that God's judgment is fair and universal. By demonstrating that no one measures up, he prepares us for the good news: salvation comes through faith in Christ, not our works (which we'll see in Romans 3).

Start measuring yourself against God's holiness instead of others' sinfulness. Spend more time looking at Jesus than looking at your neighbor. When comparison thoughts arise, turn them into confession: "God, I'm grateful for Your patience with me. Help me extend that same patience to others."

Don't have a church community to explore spirituality, explore faith, visit us at Calvary Life Brooklyn.