Day 7
United in His Death
Scripture: Romans 6:3–5
We cannot go deeper into union with Christ's life until we go down into union with His death—because that is the direction union always travels first. Down before up. Grave before glory. Paul asks a question meant to jolt a forgetful church awake: "Or have you forgotten that when we were joined with Christ Jesus in baptism, we joined him in his death?" (Romans 6:3). Read that slowly. Not merely that Christ died for you—that His death somehow paid a debt outside of you while you stood at a distance benefiting. Paul says you were joined to it. In the mystery of union, when Christ went down into death, you went down with Him.
This is the doctrine that liberates the enslaved, and most believers have never truly laid hold of it. We know Christ died for our sins. Fewer of us know that our old self died in Him. "We know that our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power in our lives. We are no longer slaves to sin" (Romans 6:6). The person you used to be—the sin-mastered, self-ruled, chain-bound person—was not merely forgiven and left alive to keep struggling. That person was executed on a Roman cross two thousand years ago, in Christ. Union means His death counts, before God, as your death.
Why does this matter for the actual war you fight on an ordinary Tuesday? Because the strategy you use against sin depends entirely on whether you think the old self is alive or dead. If the old self is alive and merely restrained, then the Christian life is a lifelong wrestling match with a stronger opponent, and you will lose more than you win. But Paul says something staggeringly different: "For when we died with Christ we were set free from the power of sin" (Romans 6:7). You are not a prisoner straining against the bars. You are a freed captive who keeps returning to a cell whose door has already been thrown open. The chains you keep fighting were broken at Calvary.
This is why sheer willpower never finally conquers a besetting sin—willpower is the wrong weapon because it assumes the wrong reality. Willpower says, "The old me is alive and I must overpower it." But the gospel says, "The old you is dead, and you must believe it." So Paul commands not effort but reckoning: "So you also should consider yourselves to be dead to the power of sin and alive to God through Christ Jesus" (Romans 6:11). The Greek word behind "consider" is an accounting term—count it as true, tally it as fact, live from the ledger God has already settled. We do not put sin to death by attacking what has already been crucified. We overcome by agreeing with heaven about what is already true, and then acting as free people act.
But there is another death folded into His death, and it reaches every sorrow you carry. Union does not only mean the old self died with Christ—it means every little death you are asked to endure is joined to His great one. When loss cuts you, when a dream must be surrendered, when a right must be relinquished, when love asks you to lay something down, you do not die alone in the dark. You die in Christ—who has already walked the whole length of death and come out the far side into resurrection. Your griefs are not detached from His. They are gathered up into the death of the One who is now alive forevermore.
This is the strange dignity of Christian suffering, and it is the very heart of what it means to be a refinery. The fire is not your undoing. The knife is not your enemy. Every death you die in Christ carries His resurrection sewn into its lining, because you are joined to the One for whom death was never the end but the doorway. "Since we have been united with him in his death, we will also be raised to life as he was" (Romans 6:5). The "since" and the "will also" are welded together. You cannot have the one without the other. Union guarantees that whatever goes down in Christ comes up in Christ.
So do not flinch from the cross this month, and do not try to reach oneness by going around it. There is no path to union that detours past Calvary. The self that clings to control, the sins that must be surrendered, the losses that must be grieved—all of it becomes the very soil where resurrection breaks through the crust of the old life. Reckon yourself dead. Not because you feel dead, but because God has declared it. And then walk out of the cell. The door has been open a long time.
Prayer: Lord Jesus, when You died, I died. My old self, my slavery to sin, my grip on my own life—all of it went into the grave with You. Forgive me for fighting as a slave when You have already made me free, for straining against chains You broke at Calvary. Teach me to count as true what You have already declared: I am dead to sin and alive to God. And in every smaller death You ask of me, remind me it is joined to Yours, and therefore joined to Your resurrection. Amen.
Today, take one sin or habit you keep losing to by willpower. Stop wrestling it as though it were alive and stronger than you. Instead, declare over it what God has declared: "The old self that loved this was crucified with Christ. I am not its slave. The door is open." Then walk out—act as a free person acts, not toward the cell you already left.
Scripture for Reflection:
Romans 6:6 — "Our old sinful selves were crucified with Christ so that sin might lose its power."
Romans 6:11 — "Consider yourselves to be dead to the power of sin and alive to God."
Galatians 6:14 — "Because of that cross, my interest in this world has been crucified."
You are not a prisoner straining against the bars. You are a freed captive who forgot the door is open.