A Slave Of Christ Jesus
Twenty-five years into his ministry, the apostle Paul has nothing left to prove.
He has planted churches across the eastern Mediterranean, trained leaders, written letters, and carried the gospel into cities that had never heard the name of Jesus. All while lawfare and mobs, sticks, rocks and fists chased him. Beatings survived, prisons endured, riots escaped, and shipwrecks walked away from. If anyone in the early church had earned the right to retire, travel for pleasure, and play pickleball, it was Paul.
Instead of hobbies and a hassle-free life, Paul’s eyes were already set far west, toward people who had never heard the name of Jesus.
He had wanted to go there for a long time. Not to sightsee. Not to slow down. He wanted to strengthen the believers there, to put the good news into clear, sturdy words, to ground them in the story of Jesus so they could stand firm. And then, with their help, push the gospel even farther, past Rome, past what was familiar, to places where Christ was still unknown.
And as we set out to study Romans, we know he accomplished exactly that.
In 1522, Martin Luther said, “Romans is worthy not only that every Christian should know it word for word, by heart, but occupy himself with it every day, as the daily bread of the soul.”
So, let’s dive into it!
1 This letter is from Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus, chosen by God to be an apostle and sent out to preach his Good News. 2 God promised this Good News long ago through his prophets in the holy Scriptures. 3 The Good News is about his Son. In his earthly life he was born into King David’s family line, 4 and he was shown to be the Son of God when he was raised from the dead by the power of the Holy Spirit. He is Jesus Christ our Lord. 5 Through Christ, God has given us the privilege and authority as apostles to tell Gentiles everywhere what God has done for them, so that they will believe and obey him, bringing glory to his name.
6 And you are included among those Gentiles who have been called to belong to Jesus Christ. 7 I am writing to all of you in Rome who are loved by God and are called to be his own holy people.
May God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ give you grace and peace. —Romans 1:1-7
In verses 2–4, right out of the gate, he lays the Gospel on the table. Not vaguely. He names it. The Gospel, the Good News, is Jesus. A real human, born into David’s line. And the risen Son of God, publicly vindicated by the resurrection. This is not Paul warming up. This is Paul setting the rails for the rest of the letter.
And he does it for a reason. Paul is writing to a church he didn’t plant, to believers he didn’t lead to Christ, in a city that sits at the center of power, politics, and competing stories about who is really in charge. He makes sure they know exactly who and what he’s writing about. The ancient promise, fulfilled in Jesus, crucified and raised, now Lord. Everything else he is about to say, including how he understands himself, flows out of that clarity.
But it’s how he introduces himself to his readers that grabbed my attention for this article!
This letter is from Paul, a slave of Christ Jesus… —Romans 1:1
SLAVE?
Romans were obsessed with hierarchy. Everyone knew their place.
At the top stood the Emperor. Supreme authority. Political power. Military power. Even religious loyalty wrapped up in one man.
Way beneath him sat the Senatorial class. Rome’s elite families. Serious money. Land, influence, honor. This was the highest rung most people could even imagine reaching.
Below them were the wealthy non-senators. Business leaders. Administrators. Military officers. High status. Real power. Still clearly beneath the senators.
Then came freedmen. Former slaves. Legally free, never able to erase their past. Freedom without full honor.
And at the bottom—slaves.
Property, not people.
No legal standing.
No honor.
In the first sentence of this very important letter, Paul places himself at the lowest social position imaginable and ties it, unapologetically, to Jesus. In the mind of the first Roman Christian readers, it’s a collision. Paul drags the Roman obsession with power and honor straight into the open and then flips it by naming a different Lord. Before Rome can decide who Paul is, he tells them who owns him. And that choice alone signals that everything they think they know about power, freedom, and status is about to be redefined.
Paul is a free Roman citizen who could have led with his credentials. Instead, he chooses to be a slave in a world where slaves hoped for release, for independence. He adopts the identity willingly. Not once, but repeatedly (Rom. 1:1; Phil. 1:1; Titus 1:1; Gal. 1:10).
A slave? It’s a declaration.
Not Caesar.
Not the empire.
Not ambition.
Christ Jesus is my Lord.
That makes this opening line politically loaded, socially costly, and theologically explosive. Paul doesn’t start by telling them what he does. He starts by telling them who owns him. His identity isn’t built on role, gifting, or accomplishment. It’s built on belonging.
And that’s the lens through which everything else in this letter has to be read.
2026
As we step into a new year, we’ll be tempted to lead with other identities.
What we do for work.
Our politics.
Failures or regrets from 2025 shaping how we see ourselves in 2026.
Instead, let’s primarily see ourselves as slaves of Christ Jesus. Because once that identity is settled, what we say, what we risk, and what we do changes!
You’ll want to make your faith even more public.
To speak about Jesus without fear of how it will land.
To love people who don’t believe yet without needing to control the outcome.
To carry the good news into everyday conversations, workplaces, neighborhoods, and relationships God puts directly in your path.
Remember, after 25 years of successful and dangerous ministry, Paul didn’t slow down. He didn’t pivot to comfort. He kept making Jesus known.
As we go into 2026, it’s important that we know our job.
To be and make disciples of Christ in authentic community for the good of the world!
