Living on the Margins: A Fresh Look at Romans 13

Well, if you can believe it, we’ve found our way back to Romans—again. For five years now, we’ve been returning to this remarkable letter, taking a few chapters at a time to give it the depth of attention it truly deserves. This year, we’re finishing with chapters 13 through 16. But that means we began in chapter 13—and that’s no small feat. Romans 13 is one of the most difficult passages to wrap our heads around.

When the Text Is Used Against Us

Romans 13 has a fraught history. It’s been used—and abused—throughout time to justify harm, uphold power, and silence dissent. One quote I read recently was from a contemporary pastor in the U.S. who said, and I quote: "The book of Romans is very clear. God has endowed rulers full power to use whatever means necessary...whether it is assassination, capital punishment, or evil to quell the actions of evildoers."

When asked about Romans 12—where Paul says "Do not repay evil for evil"—this same pastor replied, "That does not apply. That is for Christians. This is for leaders."

As if there’s a loophole for God.

As if God can somehow condone actions in leadership that would be unconscionable in a disciple.

And here’s the hard part: that interpretation of Romans 13? It doesn’t actually twist the text all that badly. You can get there, if you read it without context.

The Power of Perspective

That’s the key. The place from which we read is just as important as the words on the page.

If you read Romans 13 from the center of power—if you are part of the empire, if you benefit from the systems in place—it can sound pretty straightforward: Obey the law. Respect authority. Get what you deserve.

But that’s not who Paul was writing to.

Paul writes to a small, persecuted community living in the shadow of a hostile empire. This isn’t widespread persecution—not yet—but it’s real enough. These are people who know fear, who live on the margins, who don’t have the luxury of attracting attention.

To them, Paul says: Keep your head down. Don’t provoke needlessly. Find a way to live, to flourish, to love your neighbors—even here, even now.

Romans 13 was never meant to be a weapon in the hands of the powerful. It was always advice for those living in vulnerable places.

Targums and Living Scripture

In the early church, one of the ways Scripture stayed alive was through something called a targum—not quite a translation, more like a creative rephrasing. A way to make ancient words sing in present ears.

Sylvia Keesmaat and Brian Walsh have done this brilliantly in their book Romans Disarmed, creating targums for the entire letter. I drew on their work recently in a sermon, offering my own targum of Romans 12 and 13.

Here’s a portion of that reading, shaped for our time:

Your friends in dangerous times like these, remember this always: do not be overrun by evil, but instead choose to overcome evil with good. You are more than conquerors. Hope is, in the end, far more powerful than war. Reconciliation surpasses revenge. Generous hospitality can disarm even the deepest enmity.

But what about the empire around us? The violence, the threat, the systems that crush?

Can we really obey Christ in one breath, and the war machine in the next?

No.

The state has no authority in itself. Whatever power it appears to wield comes only from the very Christ its violence betrays.

So yes, be wise. The state bears the sword, and its violence is quick—especially if you don’t look like those in power. Choose your battles carefully. Protect your vulnerable neighbors. Fear power, but do not let fear have the final word.

Live alongside authority, but subject it always to the law of love. Let every ruling, every constitution, every decree be measured against the justice of Christ.

Reading Scripture in Solidarity

This is how the gospel subverts empire—not by brute force, but through imagination. Through love. Through the solidarity of the margins.

Because Scripture was never meant to be weaponized against the marginalized. It was always meant to draw us together. To invite us to see the world anew. To love as Christ loved.

Maybe this time through Romans, that’s exactly what we’ll find.