How to Live While You're Waiting

Paul has spent twelve chapters laying out a thorough, systematic explanation of the Gospel — what God has done, why it matters, and how it changes everything. Now he's getting practical. Chapter 12 was the pivot: offer your whole life to God. Chapter 13 follows that pivot into three areas that touch every single day — how you relate to government, how you relate to people, and how you relate to time itself.

What's remarkable is how urgent it all feels. Paul wasn't writing theory. He was writing to real believers in Rome — the capital of the empire that would eventually execute him — and telling them how to actually live in a world that doesn't follow Jesus. These verses have been debated, misused, and wrestled with for two thousand years. They deserve careful reading.

Romans 13:1-7 (ESV) This passage has generated more argument than almost any other in the New Testament. Paul opened with a statement that probably made his readers uncomfortable — and still makes us uncomfortable today. Remember: he was writing to Christians living under the Roman Empire. Not a democracy. Not a government that shared their values. Rome. And he said this:

"Every person should submit to the governing authorities. There is no authority that exists except what God has established — the ones in power have been placed there by God. So whoever resists the authorities is resisting what God has put in place, and those who resist will face judgment.

Rulers aren't a threat to people doing good — they're a threat to people doing wrong. Want to live without fear of the authorities? Do what's right and they'll approve of you. The person in authority is God's servant, working for your benefit. But if you do wrong? Be afraid. They don't carry the sword for show. They are God's servants, carrying out his justice on those who do evil.

So submit — not just because of the consequences, but because your conscience tells you it's right. This is also why you pay taxes. The authorities are ministers of God, devoted to governing.

Pay everyone what you owe them. Taxes to whoever collects taxes. Revenue to whoever collects revenue. Respect to whoever deserves respect. Honor to whoever deserves honor."

Now — let's be honest about what this does and doesn't say. Paul wasn't saying every government is good. He wasn't saying authority figures never abuse their power. He knew they did. He'd been beaten and jailed by them. What he was saying is that the concept of governing authority comes from God. Order itself is part of how God holds the world together. And Christians aren't supposed to be known as people who tear that down.

Think about what this meant for those early believers. They were a tiny minority in a massive empire, and they were already viewed with suspicion. Paul was saying: don't give them a reason. Live as good citizens. Pay your taxes. Show respect. Not because Rome deserves your worship — but because your conduct says something about the God you claim to follow. That tension between submitting to imperfect authority and ultimately belonging to a higher one? We still live in it every day.

Romans 13:8-10 (ESV) From government, Paul shifted to something even more fundamental — and he made it beautifully simple:

"Don't owe anyone anything — except the ongoing debt of loving each other. Because the person who loves others has fulfilled The Law.

All the commandments — don't commit adultery, don't murder, don't steal, don't covet — every single one of them gets summed up in this: 'Love your neighbor as yourself.'

Love does no harm to a neighbor. So love is the complete fulfillment of the law."

Catch what Paul just did? He took the entire moral code — every rule, every regulation, every "do this, don't do that" — and compressed it into a single word. Love. Not a feeling. Not a vibe. A way of living where every interaction is filtered through one question: am I doing right by this person?

It's the kind of simplicity that's actually harder than a list of rules. Rules let you check boxes. Love asks you to see people. Every commandment Paul listed — adultery, murder, theft, coveting — each one is just a specific way of harming someone. If you genuinely love the people around you, you won't do any of those things. Not because you're afraid of consequences, but because love won't let you. That's the difference between righteousness that comes from a list and righteousness that comes from the heart.

Romans 13:11-14 (ESV) Paul closed this chapter with language that feels like someone grabbing you by the shoulders:

"You know what time it is. The hour has already come for you to wake up — because salvation is closer to us now than when we first believed. The night is almost over. The day is almost here.

So let's throw off everything that belongs to the darkness and put on the armor of light. Let's live the way people live in broad daylight — not in wild partying and drunkenness, not in sexual immorality and recklessness, not in fighting and jealousy.

Instead, clothe yourselves with the Lord Jesus Christ. And stop making plans to satisfy the pull of your old nature."

There's an image here that's easy to miss. Paul described two ways of living as two wardrobes. One is the stuff you do in the dark — the things you'd never do if everyone could see. The other is what he called "the armor of light" — living openly, honestly, nothing to hide. And then his final instruction: put on Jesus like you'd put on clothes. Let him be the thing people see when they look at you.

That last line is the one that sticks. "Make no provision for the flesh." Stop setting yourself up for the thing you keep falling into. Stop leaving the door cracked open. It's not just about willpower — it's about refusing to give your worst impulses a runway. The notification you haven't turned off. The group chat that always pulls you somewhere toxic. The pattern you keep telling yourself you'll deal with tomorrow. Paul says the tomorrow you're waiting for is today. Wake up. Get dressed. Walk into the light.