When I Do What I Hate To Do: The Battle Within and the Rescue in Christ
Opening Orientation
Many Christians know the quiet confusion of their own actions. A person can wake up with sincere resolve, wanting to respond gently, to speak truthfully, to think purely, to walk in peace. Yet the day unfolds and the same patterns appear. The temper rises. The mind drifts. The words come out sharper than intended. The old habits return with an almost familiar strength. The person who wanted to obey God seems, in that moment, like a different person than the one who acted.
This inner conflict can feel more discouraging than the sin itself. It raises questions that do not stay theoretical for long. Why did I do that again? Am I really a believer? Why does the desire to do what is right feel so weak when temptation feels so strong? For those who are fighting what feels like a daily battle, it can begin to feel like drowning. Even the attempt to change can become exhausting.
The sermon’s burden is to bring clarity where many believers carry confusion, and to bring Christ-centered hope where many carry shame. The aim is not to excuse sin, and not to offer a self-improvement path. It is to interpret the struggle biblically, to expose the lies that keep believers trapped, and to direct the weary soul toward the only true rescue: dependence on the Lord Jesus Christ.
Exegetical Core
The message anchors itself in Romans 7:15, where the Apostle Paul speaks with striking honesty: “For what I am doing, I do not understand. For what I will to do, that I do not practice; but what I hate, that I do.” Paul describes a conflict between intention and action, between desire and practice, between what a person hates and what a person still does.
The sermon draws out how Paul’s words name what many believers experience but struggle to explain. First, there is confusion. Paul says, “I do not understand my own actions.” Many Christians have felt the same bewilderment after sin. The questions come quickly: Why did I say that? Why did I go there again? What came over me? It can feel as if the believer and the one who acted are two different people.
Second, there is frustration. Paul knows what he wants to do, yet he recognizes a gap between the good he desires and the behavior he actually practices. The sermon describes this as knowing the destination but moving in the wrong direction. A believer wants purity of thought but finds the mind wandering into lust. A believer wants peace but finds resentment rising again. The frustration is not merely that wrongdoing occurred, but that the heart had intended otherwise.
Third, Paul describes something even deeper: self-betrayal. “The very thing I hate, I do.” There is a kind of grief in these words. A believer not only fails to do the good they desire, but also participates in what they know is evil. The sermon gives examples that expose the contradiction: we hate gossip when it targets us, yet we lean in when it concerns someone else. We hate laziness, yet we refuse disciplined work. Paul’s language captures the ache of knowing that the sin is not merely outside us, but active within our members.
At this point, the sermon makes an important clarification about who is speaking. Romans 7 is not presented as the confession of an unbeliever far from God. The speaker emphasizes that Paul is not a casual Christian. This is a man who wrote much of the New Testament, a man who loves God deeply, and yet feels the pull of sin inside him. That matters because it corrects a common assumption: that real faith should erase the struggle.
Paul’s words, as presented in the sermon, show that faith in the Lord Jesus Christ does not guarantee perfect behavior in every moment. The problem is not simply a lack of willpower, or a lack of trying, or a mere deficiency in self-control. The sermon identifies the heart of the issue as spiritual conflict. The believer is living in the presence of a battle within.
To name this battle, the sermon points to Galatians 5:17: “the flesh wants what is contrary to the Spirit, and the Spirit what is contrary to the flesh.” This is not a minor tension. It is a real opposition. The flesh and the Spirit pull in opposite directions. The sermon’s logic is clear: if a person feels torn inside, that inner war is not proof that faith is false. Rather, the presence of the fight is evidence of spiritual life. “Dead things don’t fight. Living things fight.”
This becomes a major doctrinal pivot in the message. Many believers interpret struggle as a sign that they have become weak or that they have drifted beyond God. Paul’s testimony turns the idea upside down. The sermon argues that struggle, in many cases, is not proof that God has left a believer, but proof that God’s Spirit is present and resisting the flesh. The enemy whispers, “If you are in God, you will not struggle.” The message insists that this whisper is a lie. The pull a believer feels is not only temptation. It is also the resistance of new life. The conflict reveals that something has changed within. The Spirit is fighting for the soul.
But this still leaves a pressing question. If the struggle is real, what is the answer? The sermon moves from Romans 7:15 toward Paul’s deeper cry later in the chapter. In Romans 7:24, Paul asks, “Who will rescue me from this body of death?” The sermon highlights the wording. Paul does not ask, “How will I overcome?” He asks, “Who will rescue me?” The difference matters. The answer to this conflict is not a technique. It is a person.
Paul’s answer follows in Romans 7:25: “Thanks be to God through the Lord Jesus Christ.” The sermon frames this as the center of Christian hope. Freedom is not based on personal power. Freedom depends on the one the believer depends on. The Lord Jesus Christ is not merely a helper to improve a person’s efforts. He is the rescuer.
From there the sermon addresses another honest question that believers ask: If Christ has delivered me, why does sin still feel so strong? Why do I still fail? The message answers by distinguishing between Christ’s decisive victory and the believer’s lived experience of that victory. On the cross, the war was won. The old self was crucified. That is the believer’s position. Yet the victory must be taken hold of, tasted, and lived. The sermon names this process as sanctification, describing it as a lifelong journey in which the Spirit works daily as believers submit to God’s cleansing. Growth is real, but it is often gradual. It is not instant perfection, but daily formation.
Theological Clarification
The sermon corrects several misunderstandings that commonly damage believers in this area.
First, it corrects the assumption that genuine faith eliminates internal conflict. Paul’s experience shows that deep love for God can exist alongside real struggle. The presence of the fight does not prove the absence of salvation. The sermon’s phrase “dead things don’t fight” is meant to steady believers who have interpreted their conflict as disqualifying evidence.
Second, it corrects the assumption that the solution is self-dependence. Paul’s question, “Who will rescue me?” directs the believer away from self-salvation. The sermon explicitly warns against thinking of freedom as “taking a series of steps” as though the main issue were technique. The deeper issue is dependence. The believer’s hope rests in Christ, not in a personal strategy that functions apart from Him.
Third, it corrects the misunderstanding that God’s goal is only forgiveness without transformation. The sermon insists that God does not merely want to forgive sin. He wants to break the power of sin. To explain this, the message introduces Romans 7:21: “although I want to do good, evil is right there with me.” The sermon describes sin not only as an action but as a power, a governing force that pulls downward like gravity. This is why it cannot be defeated by human strength alone. A stronger power is required.
Here the sermon turns to Romans 8:1-2: “Therefore, there is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, because through Christ Jesus the law of the Spirit who gives life has set you free from the law of sin and death.” This is not offered as a slogan, but as a higher law that counters the lower law of sin’s pull.
To make the point tangible, the sermon uses the analogy of flight. A person cannot fly by flapping their arms. Gravity wins. But planes fly by a different law, the law of aerodynamics, which operates as a greater power against gravity. In the same way, Romans 8 describes a law stronger than the law of sin and death: the law of the Spirit of life in Christ Jesus. The sermon’s intent is not to minimize the struggle but to locate the believer’s hope in a power beyond the believer’s will.
The sermon also exposes how the enemy weaponizes the struggle through lies of identity. When temptation comes, the enemy whispers, “This is who you are.” The message calls believers to answer with truth: “No, this is not who I am; this is who I once was.” The sermon emphasizes that in the Lord Jesus Christ, the believer’s past version does not define them. The enemy’s lies say: you are hopeless, you failed too many times, God cannot use you, this sin is your identity. These lies keep a person in shame and bondage. The sermon calls for those chains to be broken by God’s truth.
Finally, the sermon corrects the fear that failure is final. Many believers become discouraged after repeated falls and assume they are beyond repair. The message counters this directly with Proverbs 24:16: “Though the righteous fall seven times, they will rise again.” The sermon’s point is not that falling is harmless, but that for a believer, falling is not the end. The believer is not defined by the fall, but by how they rise and where they run afterward.
Pastoral Implications
The sermon’s pastoral direction is steady: when the believer faces the war within, they must not interpret it as proof of abandonment, and they must not respond with isolation, pride, or despair. Instead, the believer must move toward honesty, humility, surrender, and fellowship, all grounded in dependence on Christ.
A vivid warning is given through the Texas rattlesnake illustration. A man cut a rattlesnake in two, separating head and body. Yet as he handled the head, it bit him with a fatal amount of venom and he nearly died, requiring extensive antivenom. The sermon applies the picture to the believer’s old self. Even when sin’s decisive defeat has been accomplished in Christ, the remnants of the old patterns can still strike if a believer is not alert. This illustration is used to explain why believers can be shocked by how easily they can sin after coming to faith. The aim is not to create fear, but sobriety.
Because believers can be discouraged by this, the sermon emphasizes that the path forward begins with honesty before God. Paul did not hide his struggle. He confessed it. In that confession, he found grace. The message describes this honesty as the gateway to freedom. Hidden battles often intensify shame. Confession reorients the believer to God’s help rather than self-protection.
Humility is also highlighted. Pride keeps people in chains because pride refuses to come to God as needy. The sermon urges believers not to let pride keep them in bondage. Hand weakness to God. Admitting “I cannot do this on my own” is not surrendering to defeat; it is confessing faith that God will change what the believer cannot change. The sermon frames surrender not as quitting, but as giving over. Not ending the fight, but inviting God into the fight.
The message also holds together two realities without confusion: God’s love is not based on performance, and God’s purpose is not to leave believers unchanged. The sermon reminds the church that God loved His people at their worst, and His love does not fluctuate. Believers are not defined by their failures or by what they were in the past. They are defined by who they are through God’s grace today. This does not make sin acceptable. It makes repentance possible without despair.
The sermon warns against isolation. The enemy looks for those who drift from the group, like predators targeting the easiest catch. Fellowship breaks the grip. The message insists that freedom is not only looking to God, but also receiving the people God has placed in one’s life. God strengthens His children through His children. This is why believers need friendships marked by love for Christ and love for each other. The believer must not fight alone.
Throughout, the sermon keeps returning to a central pastoral insistence: victory is not a single event. It is a daily decision. It is won one choice at a time, one thought surrendered, one temptation placed at the Lord’s feet, one prayer whispered in weakness. The believer should not measure progress by perfection, but by persistence. God is not searching for perfect people. He is seeking surrendered hearts.
Forward Posture
The sermon leaves the believer facing a sober but hopeful future. The inner conflict described in Romans 7 is not denied, and it is not treated as harmless. But neither is it treated as hopeless. The Christian life involves real resistance, real surrender, and real growth, all under the greater reality of Christ’s rescue.
The final direction is not to trust the strength of one’s resolve, but to trust the strength of the one who rescues. The believer must learn to move from shame to surrender, from self-dependence to God-dependence. The struggle itself must be interpreted through the gospel: if there is a fight within, it is evidence of life, and if there is life, there is reason to run to God rather than away from Him.
The message does not promise that temptation will vanish immediately. It does not claim that sanctification is quick or easy. It does not deny that believers may fall. But it does call the church to a steady posture: to rise again, to come honestly before God, to refuse the enemy’s identity-lies, to live under the truth of no condemnation in Christ, and to walk with the Spirit who gives life.
This is not a call to self-confidence. It is a call to Christ-confidence. It is not an invitation to minimize sin. It is an invitation to bring sin into the light of God’s grace and power, trusting that God not only forgives, but also breaks what we cannot break. The believer’s story is not over. In Christ, it is being shaped daily, not by the strength of the flesh, but by the law of the Spirit of life.