Romans 1:6–7 brings the sweeping apostolic declaration right down to the ground where we stand. After the thunder of Paul’s calling and the grandeur of the gospel’s purpose in verses 1–5, we now find something personal, tender, and astonishing. These next two verses quietly enfold us into the very heart of God’s redeeming work.
Here is the passage, from the ESV:
…including you who are called to belong to Jesus Christ,
To all those in Rome who are loved by God and called to be saints:
Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.
(Romans 1:6–7)
Let us pause here and allow the weight of it to rest upon us.
Paul has just spoken of the obedience of faith among all the nations for the sake of Christ’s name. But now, with pastoral intimacy, he turns to the believers in Rome. They are not abstract examples in a global plan; they are real people—brothers and sisters in Christ, known by name, living in the capital of empire, yet citizens of a higher kingdom.
He writes: “including you who are called to belong to Jesus Christ.”
This is extraordinary. These believers in Rome—many of whom Paul has never met—are called. Not merely invited, not persuaded, but summoned. The same divine calling that arrested Paul now rests upon them. But the object of that calling is worth pausing over: they are called to belong to Jesus Christ.
This is not simply a call to believe about Christ, or to live like Christ, or even to serve under Christ. It is a call to belong to Him—to be His. This is covenantal, relational, and possessive in the most beautiful way. We are not our own. We are His possession, His inheritance, His joy. To be a Christian is not to adopt a new set of ideas—it is to be claimed by Christ Himself.
Then comes the formal greeting, but it is full of truth: “To all those in Rome who are loved by God and called to be saints.” Again, Paul begins with the divine initiative: loved by God. Before they are described as believers, or even as saints, they are described as loved. This is the root of everything. God’s love precedes their calling, undergirds their identity, and sustains their future. It is not their worthiness that drew His love, but His love that created their worth.
They are also called to be saints. That phrase, often dulled by over-familiarity, is ablaze with holiness. These ordinary men and women—former pagans, Jews, slaves, merchants—are not merely forgiven. They are called into sanctity. They are set apart for God, not only in status but in purpose. They are called to live as saints. That is, their identity in Christ is not static—it is summons. To belong to Jesus is to be called forward into ever-deepening holiness, shaped by grace, set apart for Him.
Finally, Paul offers his customary greeting: “Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ.” Yet here too we should pause. This is not just a kind sentiment. Grace and peace are not merely wishes—they are gifts from the living God, flowing from the Father and the Son. Grace—unmerited favour, enabling strength, and eternal welcome. Peace—shalom, wholeness, rest, reconciliation with God. These are not earned. They are bestowed. And they are the rightful inheritance of all who belong to Christ.
In just two verses, Paul has described the Christian not as one who has adopted a religion, but as one who has been called, loved, claimed, set apart, and blessed. The gospel is not merely out there—it has reached into Rome, and into our lives. And it calls us not to independence or effort, but to belong. To be loved. To be holy. To walk in grace and peace.
What begins as an apostolic letter now opens to embrace us all. These words are for Rome—but they are also for Saltwood, for Kent, for every believer across every age who has heard the Shepherd’s call and answered, “I am Yours.”