Homilies on Romans, Homily 16

“I speak the truth in Christ, I do not lie, my conscience also bearing witness with me in the Holy Spirit.” Didn’t it seem to you yesterday that I said some great and extraordinary things about Paul’s love for Christ? And they were great indeed, too great for any words to express. Yet what you have heard today rises as far above those things as those things rose above ours. I did not think they could be surpassed, but when I came to what was read today, it seemed far more glorious than everything that came before. He shows in his opening that he himself was aware of this. For as he is about to move on to greater things, which most people would therefore find hard to believe, he first gives a solemn assurance about what he is going to say. Many people do this when they are about to say something most people do not believe, but of which they themselves are completely certain. That is why he says, “I speak the truth in Christ, I do not lie, and my conscience bears witness,” Ver. 2, 3. “That I have great grief and constant sorrow in my heart. For I could wish that I myself were accursed from Christ.” What are you saying, Paul? From Christ, your beloved One, from Whom neither a kingdom nor hell, neither visible things nor things understood by the mind, nor another world just as great, could separate you—is it from Him that you would now be accursed? What has happened? Have you changed? Have you given up that love? No, he replies, do not be afraid. Instead, I have made it even more intense. How, then, can you wish to be accursed and seek a separation, a removal so distant that no greater distance could possibly be found? Because I love Him so deeply, he might reply. How, please tell me, and in what way? These things seem like a riddle. Or rather, if you like, let us first learn what the curse is. Then we will question him about these points and understand this indescribable and extraordinary love. What, then, is the curse? Listen to his own words: “If anyone does not love our Lord Jesus Christ, let him be accursed.” (anathema, 1 Cor. xvi. 22.) That is, let him be set apart from everyone, removed from everyone. For with something dedicated (ἀνάθημα), which is set apart for God, no one would dare even to touch it with his hand or come near it. So too, when a man is separated from the Church, cut off from everyone and removed as far away as possible, he gives him this name (ἀνάθεμα) in the opposite sense, solemnly warning everyone to keep away from him and recoil from him. No one dares approach the thing set apart, out of reverence for it. But everyone separates himself from the person who is cut off for exactly the opposite reason. The separation is the same, then, and both are equally removed from everyone else. Still, the manner of separation is not the same; in one case it is the opposite of the other. They keep away from one as dedicated to God, and from the other as estranged from God and cut off from the Church. This, then, is what Paul means when he says, “I could wish that I myself were accursed from Christ.” And he does not merely say, I could be willing. Using a stronger expression, he even says, “I could wish” (or pray ηὐχόμην). But if what he says troubles you in your (ἀσθενέστερον) weakness, consider the actual circumstances: not only that he wished to be separated, but also why he wished it. Then you will see the greatness of his love. For he even circumcised (Timothy, Acts xvi. 3), and we pay attention not simply to what was done, but to its intention and its reason, and so we admire him all the more. And he not only circumcised someone, but even shaved his head and offered sacrifices (Acts xviii. 18; Acts xxi. 24). Yet surely we do not therefore declare him a Jew. On this very basis we recognize him as completely free and clear of Judaizing, and as a true worshiper of Christ. So when you see him circumcising and sacrificing, you do not condemn him for Judaizing, but have the best reason on this very basis to crown him as entirely removed from Judaism. In the same way, when you see that he wished to be accursed, do not be troubled. On this very basis praise him most loudly, once you know why he wishes it. For if we do not examine the reasons closely, we will call Elijah a killer, and Abraham not only a killer, but the murderer of his son. We will likewise charge Phinehas and Peter with murder. And it is not only in the case of the saints, but also in the case of the God of the universe, that someone who does not follow this rule will suspect all sorts of unworthy things. To prevent this from happening in any such case, let us consider together the reason, the intention, the timing, and everything that supports what was done, and examine the actions in this way. This is what we must do now as well with this blessed soul. What, then, is the reason? It is Jesus Himself, Whom he loves so much. Yet he does not say, for Him. What he says is, I would wish to be accursed from Him for my brothers. This comes from his humility. He has no wish to draw attention to himself, as though he were saying something great and doing Christ a favor by it. This is also why he said “my relatives,” to conceal his lofty aim (πλεονέκτημα). To see that he wished all this for Christ’s sake, just listen to what comes next. After speaking of his relatives, he continues, Ver. 4, 5. “To whom belong the adoption, and the glory, and the covenants, and the giving of the Law, and the service of God, and the promises; to whom belong the fathers, and from whom, according to the flesh, Christ came, Who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen.” And what does this mean? someone asks. If he was willing to become accursed so that others might believe, he should have wished this on behalf of the Gentiles too. But if he wishes it only on behalf of the Jews, that proves he did not wish it for Christ’s sake, but because of his own relationship to them. In fact, however, if he had prayed only for the Gentiles, this would not have been equally clear. But because it is only for the Jews, it is clear proof that he is so earnest solely for Christ’s glory. I know that what I am saying will seem paradoxical to you. Still, if you do not cause a disturbance, I will soon try to make it clear. For he did not say what he said without a reason. Everyone was talking and accusing God: after they had been considered worthy of being called sons, received the Law, known Him more than anyone else, enjoyed such great glory, served Him more than the whole world, received the promises, descended from fathers who were His friends, and, greatest of all, been the ancestors of Christ Himself (for this is the meaning of “from whom, according to the flesh, Christ came”), they were now cast out and disgraced. And in their place Gentiles were brought in, people who had never known Him. Since people were saying all this and blaspheming God, Paul heard it and was cut to the heart. Distressed for the sake of God’s glory, he wished, if it had been possible, to be accursed so that they might be saved, this blasphemy might stop, and God might not seem to have deceived the descendants of those to whom He had promised His gifts. And to show you that he expressed this wish out of sorrow that God’s promise to Abraham, “I will give this land to you and to your seed,” might seem to have failed, he continues, Ver. 6. “Not as though the word of God had failed.” This shows that he had the courage (Mar. and 4 mss. wished) to bear all these things for the word of God, that is, the promise made to Abraham. For just as Moses seemed to be pleading for the Jews, yet was doing everything for God’s glory (for he says, “So that they do not say, Because He was unable to save them, He led them out to destroy them in the wilderness” (Deut. ix. 28); restrain Your anger), so too does Paul: So that they may not say, he means, that God’s promise has failed, that He has disappointed us in what He guaranteed us, and that His word has not become reality, I could wish to be accursed. This, then, was why he did not speak of the Gentiles. For He had made no promises to them, nor had they worshiped Him, and so no one blasphemed Him on their account. Instead, he expressed this wish for the Jews, who had both received the promise and been brought into a closer relationship with Him than others. Do you see that if he had expressed it for the Gentiles, he would not have been shown to be acting so purely for Christ’s glory? But because he was willing to become accursed on behalf of the Jews, it was most clearly shown that he desired this for Christ’s sake alone. And this is why he says, “To whom belong the adoption, and the glory, and the service of God, and the promises.” For the Law, he means, which speaks of Christ, comes from them, as do all the covenants made with them. He Himself came from them, and the Fathers who received the promises were all from them. Yet the opposite has happened, and they have lost all their blessings. This is why, he means, I am distressed. If it were possible to be separated from the company around Christ and excluded—not from love for Him (may that never happen to him, for he was doing all this out of love), but from all that enjoyment and glory—I would accept that fate, provided my Master were not blasphemed. Then He would not have to hear some people saying that it has all been for show: He promises to one and gives to another. He came from one race and saved another. He made the promises to the ancestors of the Jews, yet He has abandoned their descendants and given their blessings to people who never knew Him at any time. They worked hard at practicing the Law and reading the Prophets, while people who came only yesterday from pagan altars and images have been placed above them. What foresight is there in all this? So that these things may not be said about my Master, he means, even if they are said unjustly, I would willingly lose even the kingdom and that indescribable glory, and undergo any suffering. For I would consider it the greatest possible comfort no longer to hear Him Whom I so long for blasphemed in this way. But if you still refuse to accept this explanation, just consider how many fathers, on many occasions, have accepted this much for their children: they have chosen to be separated from them so that they might see them honored, valuing their children’s honor more than their company. But because we have so little love like this (Bacon, N. O. Aph. lib. 2, §7), we cannot even form an idea of what is meant here. Some people are so utterly unworthy even to hear Paul’s name, and so far removed from his intense love, that they imagine he is speaking here of physical death. I would say they know as little about Paul as the blind know about the sun’s rays, or even much less. For he died daily and faced dangers as thick as a snowstorm, and then said, “Who will separate us from the love of Christ? Will tribulation, or distress, or persecution, or famine?” Still not satisfied with what he had said, he went above heaven and the heaven of heavens, ranged through Angels and Archangels and all the higher orders of beings, and took in all at once things present and things to come, things visible and things understood by the mind, painful things and good things on either side, leaving absolutely nothing out. Yet even then he was not satisfied, but pictured another creation that does not exist. After all those things, how could he mention physical death as though he were saying something great? It is not so, surely it is not! Such a notion belongs to worms nesting in their dung heap. For if he had meant this, in what sense would he be wishing himself accursed from Christ? Death (Phil. i. 23) of that kind would have joined him more closely to Christ’s company and allowed him to enjoy that glory more fully. Yet some people venture to say other things, even more ridiculous. It was not death he wished for, they say, but to be a treasure, something set apart for Christ. And who, even among the most worthless and lazy people, would not wish for this? And how would this benefit his relatives? Let us leave these fables and trivialities behind, then (for answering them is no more worthwhile than answering children babbling at play). Let us return to the words themselves, delighting in this very ocean of love, swimming fearlessly through it in every direction, and reflecting on this indescribable flame of love—or rather, whatever anyone may say, he will say nothing worthy of the subject. For no ocean is so wide, no flame so intense. No language can describe it as it deserves; only the man who truly attained it knew it. And now let me put the words themselves before you again. “For I could wish that I myself were accursed.” What does “I myself” mean? It means I, who have been a teacher (1 Cor. ix. 27) of everyone, who have amassed countless good deeds, who await countless crowns, who have desired Him so much that I value His love above everything, who burn for Him all my days and consider everything (Phil. iii. 8) secondary to love for Him. For being loved by Christ was not his only concern; he also cared about loving Him intensely. And this last concern mattered most to him (τούτου μάλιστα ἦν). This was why he looked only to this and took everything lightly. In every circumstance he kept one aim in view: to fulfill this excellent love. And this is what he wishes for. But since things were not going to take this course, and he was not going to become accursed, he next undertakes a defense against the accusations, bringing before them what everyone was spreading abroad so that he can refute it. Before openly beginning his defense against these accusations, he first plants some seeds of it. For when he says, “to whom belong the adoption, and the glory, and the giving of the Law, and the service of God, and the promises,” he is simply saying that God did indeed will them to be saved. He showed this by His earlier dealings with them, by Christ’s descent from them, and by what He promised to the Fathers. But through their own unyielding disposition they pushed the benefit away. This is also why he lists things that show God’s gift, rather than things that praise them. For the adoption came from His grace, as did the glory, the promises, and the Law. After considering all these things, then, and reflecting on how earnestly God, together with His Son, had sought their salvation, he raises his voice and says, “Who is blessed forever. Amen.” In this way he himself offers thanksgiving for everyone to the Only-Begotten of God. What does it matter, he says, if others blaspheme? We who know His mysteries, His indescribable Wisdom, and His great Providence over us know very well that He deserves to be glorified, not blasphemed. Still not satisfied with being aware of this himself, he next tries to use arguments and speak more sharply against them. And he does not aim his words at them without first removing a suspicion they had. So that he might not seem to be addressing them as enemies, he says later, “Brothers, my heart’s desire and prayer to God for Israel is that they might be saved.” (Rom. x. 1.) Here too, along with his other remarks, he arranged things so that he would not seem to be speaking out of hostility toward them. This is why he does not hesitate even to call them relatives and brothers. For even if he said what he did for Christ’s sake, he also wants to draw (ἐπισπἅται) their minds toward him. He prepares the way for what he has to say and clears himself of every suspicion arising from what must be said against them. Then at last he enters into the subject most of them were waiting for. For many, as I have already said, wanted to know why those who had received the promise failed to obtain it, while those who had never even heard of it were saved before them. To clear up this difficulty, he gives the answer before the objection. For someone might say, What? Are you more concerned about God’s glory than God is about His own? Does He need your help to keep His word from failing? In reply, he says, I did not say this as though God’s Word had failed, but to show my love for Christ. For even with the way things have turned out, we have no shortage of arguments in God’s defense or of ways to show that His promise did stand. God said to Abraham, “To you and to your seed I will give the land.” And, “In your seed all the nations of the earth will be blessed.” (Gen. xii. 7, 3.) Let us see, then, he says, what kind of seed this is. For not everyone descended from him is his seed. That is why he says, “For not all who are of (or from) Israel are Israel.” Ver. 7. “Nor are they all children because they are the seed of Abraham.” Once you understand what kind of seed Abraham’s seed is, you will see that the promise is given to his seed, and know that the word has not failed. What kind of seed is it, then? This is no claim of mine, he means; the Old Testament itself explains its meaning by saying, “In Isaac your seed will be called.” (Gen. xxi. 12.) What does “In Isaac” mean? Explain. Ver. 8. “That is, the children of the flesh are not the children of God, but the children of the promise are counted as the seed.” Notice the discernment and depth of Paul’s mind. In explaining this, he does not say, “the children of the flesh are not” the children of Abraham, but “the children of God.” In this way he connects the earlier things with the present and shows that even Isaac was not merely Abraham’s son. His meaning is something like this: all who have been born as Isaac was are sons of God and the seed of Abraham. This is why he said, “In Isaac your seed will be called”: so that we may learn that those born in Isaac’s manner are Abraham’s children in the truest sense. How, then, was Isaac born? Not according to the law of nature, not according to the power of the flesh, but according to the power of the promise. What, then, is meant by the power of “the promise”? Ver. 9. “At this time I will come, and Sarah will have a son.” It was this promise and word of God, then, that formed Isaac and brought him to birth. What does it matter if its instrument was a womb, a woman’s body? For it was not the power of her body, but the might of the promise, that brought the child to birth. In the same way, we too are brought to birth by the words of God. For in the pool of water it is the words of God that give us birth and form us. We are brought to birth by being baptized into the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. And this birth comes not from nature, but from God’s promise. (John iii. 3; Eph. v. 26; James i. 18; 1 Pet. iii. 21.) For just as He first foretold Isaac’s birth and then brought it about, so He announced ours beforehand, many ages ago through all the Prophets, and afterward brought it about. You know how great He declared it would be, and how, after promising something great, He made it so easy to receive! (Hos. ii. 1, etc.) But if the Jews were to say that “In Isaac your seed will be called” means that those born of Isaac should be counted as Abraham’s seed, then the Edomites too, and all those peoples, ought to be called his sons, since their forefather Esau was Isaac’s son. Yet as things stand, they are so far from being called sons that they are complete strangers. You see, then, that it is not the children of the flesh who are the children of God, but that even in nature itself, birth from above through baptism was pictured beforehand. And if you tell me about the womb, I in turn have the water to tell you about. But just as in this case everything comes from the Spirit, so in the other everything came from the promise. For because of barrenness and old age, the womb was colder than any water. Let us, then, understand our own noble birth accurately and live a life worthy of it. There is nothing fleshly or earthly in it; so let there be nothing of that kind in us either. For it was neither sleep, nor the will of the flesh (John i. 13), nor embraces, nor the madness of desire, but “God’s love toward man” that accomplished everything. (Tit. iii. 5.) And just as in that case the age was beyond hope, so in this case, when the old age of sins had come over us, Isaac suddenly sprang up in youth, and we all became the children of God and the seed of Abraham. (Is. xl. 31.) Ver. 10. “And not only this; but when Rebekah also had conceived by one man, our father Isaac.” The subject under discussion was important. That is why he turns to several arguments and makes every effort to resolve the difficulty. For if it was strange and unprecedented for them to be cast out after such great promises, it is much stranger that we should receive their blessings when we expected nothing of the kind. It was as though a king’s son, who had been promised that he would inherit his father’s power, were reduced to the rank of disreputable men, while a condemned man, burdened with countless evils, were taken out of prison and given the power that rightfully belonged to the other. For what, he means, do you have to say? That the son is unworthy? Well, this man is unworthy too, and much more so. So he should either have been punished along with the first, or honored along with him. Something like this happened to the Jews and the Gentiles, or something far stranger. He has already shown that all were unworthy, where he says, “For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom. iii. 23.) But the unprecedented thing is that, when all were unworthy, only the Gentiles were saved. Besides this, he says, someone may raise another difficulty. If God did not intend to fulfill the promises to them, why make them at all? People who do not know the future, and are often mistaken, may promise their gifts even to the undeserving. But He knows future things beforehand as well as present things. He clearly knows that they will make themselves unworthy of the promises and therefore will receive none of the things specified. Why, then, should He promise at all? How does Paul meet all this? By showing who the Israel is to whom He made the promise. For once this has been shown, it is also proved that all the promises were fulfilled. To make this point, he said, “For not all who are of Israel are Israel.” This is why he uses the name Israel rather than Jacob: it was a sign of that righteous man’s virtue, of a gift from above, and of his having seen God. (Gen. xxxii. 28.) Yet he says, “All have sinned and fall short of the glory of God.” (Rom. iii. 23.) Now if all have sinned, how is it that some are saved and some perish? Because not all were willing to come to Him, since as far as His part was concerned, all were saved, for all were called. He does not set this out just yet, however, but approaches it from a strong position and through other examples. He brings another question before them and, as before, meets a very great difficulty with another difficulty. For when he was discussing how, through Christ’s being justified, all the rest enjoyed that righteousness, he introduced Adam’s case, saying, “For if through one man’s offense death reigned, much more will those who receive the abundance of grace reign in life.” (Rom. v. 17). He does not clear up Adam’s case itself, but uses it to clear up His (or his own), and shows that it was more reasonable for Him Who died on their behalf to have power over them as He wills. For to most people it does not seem very reasonable that, when one sinned, all should be punished. But that, when One acted rightly, all should be justified is both more reasonable and more fitting for God. Yet he has still not resolved the difficulty he raised. For the more obscure that point remained, the more the Jew was silenced. The difficulty of Paul’s position shifted to the other side, and his own became clearer through it (Mar. and 4 mss. “than that”). Here too, then, he meets the questions raised by raising other difficulties, since he was arguing against Jews. That is why he makes no effort to resolve the examples he has brought before us. In his argument against the Jews, he was not responsible for answering those objections. Instead, throughout his argument, he uses them to make his own subject clearer. Why are you surprised, he means, that some Jews were saved at this time and some were not? You can see this happening long ago, in the patriarch’s time. For why was Isaac alone called the seed, when his father was also the father of Ishmael and several others? “But Ishmael’s mother was a slave.” And what does this have to do with his father? Still, I will not quibble. Let this son be set aside because of his mother. What are we to say about those born to Keturah? Were they not free, and born to a free mother? Why were they not honored with the same preference as Isaac? And why do I speak of these? Rebekah was Isaac’s only wife, and when she bore two children, she bore them both to Isaac. Yet those children, though born of the same father and the same mother, the fruit of the same labor, both having one father and one mother and being twins besides, did not share the same lot. Here you have no mother’s slavery to account for it, as in Ishmael’s case. Nor can you say that one was born from this womb and the other from a different one, as in the case of Keturah and Sarah, since here they even shared the same hour of birth. This is why Paul, to give a clearer example, says that this happened not only in Isaac’s case, “but when Rebekah also had conceived by one man, our father Isaac.” Ver. 11–13. “For before the children were born or had done anything good or evil, so that God’s purpose according to election might stand, not from works, but from him who calls, she was told, The older will serve the younger. As it is written, Jacob I have loved, but Esau I have hated.” Why, then, was one loved and the other hated? Why did one serve while the other was served? Because one was wicked and the other good. Yet before the children were born, one was honored and the other condemned. For before they were born, God said, “The older will serve the younger.” Why, then, did God say this? Because He does not wait, as people do, to see from the outcome of their actions who is good and who is not. Even before their actions, He knows who is wicked and who is not. This happened in the Israelites’ case too, in an even more remarkable way. Why, he says, do I speak of Esau and Jacob, one of whom was wicked and the other good? In the Israelites’ case, the sin belonged to everyone, since they all worshiped the calf. Yet some were shown mercy and others were not. Ver. 15. “For I will have mercy, He says, on whom I will have mercy, and I will show compassion on whom I will show compassion.” (Ex. xxxiii. 19.) You can see this also in the case of those who are punished. For what would you say about Pharaoh, who was punished and had to pay so heavy a penalty? You say he was hard-hearted and disobedient. Was he alone like this, and no one else at all? Why, then, was he punished so severely? And even in the case of the Jews, why did He call those who were not a people a people? Or again, why did He not consider everyone worthy of equal honor? “For if they are,” it says, “like the sand of the sea, only a remnant will be saved.” (Is. x. 22.) And why only a remnant? You see how many difficulties he has filled the subject with. And rightly so. For when you can put your opponent in a difficult position, do not give the answer at once. If he himself is shown to share the same ignorance, why take unnecessary risks yourself? Why embolden him by taking the whole burden on yourself? Now tell me, Jew, with all your puzzling questions, none of which you can answer: how can you trouble us about the calling of the Gentiles? I, however, can give you a good reason why the Gentiles were justified and you were cast out. What is the reason? They rely on faith, and you on the works of the Law. It is because of this stubbornness of yours that you have been given up in every way (Mar. and several mss. all). For “being ignorant of God’s righteousness and trying to establish their own righteousness, they have not submitted to the righteousness of God.” (Rom. x. 3.) This blessed man thus makes the whole passage clear here, giving its overall meaning briefly. But to make this clearer, let us also examine what he says one point at a time, keeping this in mind: blessed Paul’s aim in everything he said was to show that God alone knows who is worthy. No human being knows, however well he may seem to know; his judgment contains many errors. For He Who knows the secrets of hearts alone knows for certain who deserves a crown, and who deserves punishment and vengeance. That is why He convicts and punishes many whom people consider good, and crowns those suspected of being bad, after showing that they are not. He forms His judgment according to His own penetrating and incorruptible decision, rather than the judgment of us servants, and does not wait for the outcome of actions to discover from them who is wicked and who is not. But so that we do not make the subject more obscure, let us return again to the Apostle’s actual words. Ver. 10. “And not only this, but when Rebekah also had conceived by one man.” I could, he implies, have mentioned the children by Keturah too, but I do not. To win the argument from a stronger position, I bring forward children born of one and the same father and mother. Both were born of Rebekah and of Isaac, the legitimately born son, the chosen son, the son honored above all, of whom He said, “In Isaac your seed will be called,” who became “the father of us all.” But if he was our father, his sons should have been our fathers; yet this was not so. You see how this happens not only in Abraham’s case, but also in that of his own son, and how in every case faith and virtue stand out and give true kinship its character. From this we learn that children are called someone’s children not only because of the manner of their birth, but because they are worthy of their father’s virtue. For if it depended only on the manner of birth, Esau should have enjoyed the same things as Jacob. He too came from a womb as good as dead, and his mother was barren. Yet this was not the only requirement; character was required too. This fact offers us a great deal of practical instruction. He does not say that one was good and the other bad, and that the former was therefore honored, for fear this kind of argument might be turned against him: “What? Are the Gentiles better people than the circumcised?” Even if that were the truth of the matter, he does not state it yet, since it would have seemed offensive. Instead, he has rested the whole matter on God’s knowledge, which no one would dare dispute, however frenzied he might be. “For before the children were born,” he says, “she was told, The older will serve the younger.” He shows that noble birth according to the flesh is of no use; we must seek virtue of soul, which God knows even before its deeds. For he says, “Before the children were born or had done anything good or evil, so that God’s purpose according to election might stand, she was told that the older will serve the younger.” Their being chosen from birth was a sign of foreknowledge. So that the election made according to foreknowledge might clearly be God’s, from the first day He immediately saw and declared which was good and which was not. Do not tell me, then, he means, that you have read the Law and the Prophets and have served for so long. For He Who knows how to test the soul knows who is worthy of being saved. Submit, then, to the incomprehensible nature of the election. He alone knows how to award crowns rightly. How many, for example, seemed better than St. Matthew, judging by the deeds visible at the time? But He Who knows what has not been revealed, and can test the mind’s fitness, knew the pearl even while it lay in the mud. Passing over others and taking pleasure in its beauty, He chose it, and by adding His own grace to its noble free choice, He made it worthy of approval. For even in these perishable arts, and indeed in other matters, skilled judges do not select from what is before them on the grounds the untrained use to make their decisions. Instead, on grounds they themselves understand well, they often reject what the untrained approve and choose what they reject. Horse trainers often do this with horses, as do judges of precious stones and workers in other arts. Much more, then, will the God Who loves humanity, the infinite Wisdom, Who alone clearly knows everything, refuse to accept human guesses and judge everyone from His own exact and unfailing Wisdom. This was why He chose the tax collector, the thief, and the prostitute, but dishonored priests, elders, and rulers and cast them out. You can see this happening with the martyrs too. Many who had been utterly dismissed were crowned at the time of trial. On the other hand, some whom many had considered great stumbled and fell. Do not call the Creator to account, then, or say, Why was one crowned and another punished? He knows how to do these things exactly. That is why he also says, “Jacob I have loved, and Esau I have hated.” You know from the outcome that this was just, but He Himself knew it clearly even before the outcome. For God looks not merely for a display of deeds, but also for noble choice and an obedient disposition (γνώμην εὐγνώμονα). A person like this, if he should ever be taken by surprise and sin, will quickly recover. And even if he should happen to remain in vice for a long time, he will not be overlooked; God, Who knows everything, will quickly draw him out. In the same way, someone corrupted in this respect will perish even if he seems to do some good things, because he does them with a bad intention. This is why even David, after committing murder and adultery, quickly washed away his sin: he had been carried away by a sudden assault, rather than acting from a settled practice of wickedness. The Pharisee, however, who had committed no such crime (Luke xviii. 11), and even had good deeds to boast of besides, lost everything through the bad disposition he had chosen. Ver. 14. “What will we say then? Is there unrighteousness with God? Certainly not.” So there is no such thing in His dealings with us and the Jews. Then he moves on to another point, clearer than this. What is it? Ver. 15. “For he says to Moses, I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.” Here again he strengthens the objection by dividing it in two and meeting it, while raising another new difficulty. But to make what I have said clearer, I must explain it. God, he means, said that “the older will serve the younger” before the birth. What then? “Is God unrighteous?” Certainly not. Now listen to what follows too. In that case, virtue or vice might have been decisive. But here there was one sin in which all the Jews joined, the sin of the cast-metal calf, and still some were punished and some were not. This is why He says, “I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom I will have compassion.” (Ex. xxxiii. 19: observe context.) For it is not for you, Moses, He means, to know who deserves My love toward man; leave this to Me. But if Moses had no right to know, much less do we. This is why he did not simply quote the passage, but also reminded us to whom it was spoken. It is Moses, he means, to whom He is speaking, so that at least the dignity of the person might humble the objector. After giving a solution to the difficulties raised, he then divides it in two by introducing another objection as follows: Ver. 16, 17. “So then it does not depend on the one who wills or the one who runs, but on God Who shows mercy. For the Scripture says to Pharaoh, For this very purpose I have raised you up, that I might show My power in you, and that My name might be proclaimed throughout all the earth.” Just as in the one case, he means, some were saved and some were punished, so it is here too. This man was kept for this very purpose. Then he presses the objection again. Ver. 18, 19. “Therefore He has mercy on whom He wills, and whom He wills He hardens. You will then say to me, Why does he still find fault? For who has resisted His will?” See how hard he works to make the subject difficult in every way. He does not give the answer immediately, because it is useful not to do so. Instead, he first silences the disputant by saying, Ver. 20. “But, man, who are you to answer back to God?” He does this to curb the objector’s inappropriate questioning and excessive curiosity, to check it, and to teach him what God is and what man is, how incomprehensible His foreknowledge is, how far beyond our reason, and how we are bound to obey Him in everything. Once he has prepared his hearer in this way, calming and softening his spirit, he introduces the answer very skillfully, having made the hearer ready to accept what he says. He does not say that it is impossible to answer questions like these, but that (5 mss. No, but what? that) it is presumptuous to raise them. Our business is to submit to what God does, rather than pry into it, even if we do not know the reasons for it. This is why he said, “Who are you to answer back to God?” You see how little he makes of him, how he brings down his inflated spirit! “Who are you?” Do you share His power? (compare Job xxxviii.) Are you actually sitting in judgment on God? Compared with Him, you cannot even have any existence—not merely existence of this or that kind, but absolutely none! For “Who are you?” reduces him to nothing much more forcefully than “You are nothing.” He also shows his indignation in other ways through the question. He does not say, “Who are you to answer God?” but “to answer back,” that is, to contradict and oppose Him. For saying that things ought to be this way and ought not to be that way is what someone does when he “answers back.” See how he frightens them, how he terrifies them, how he makes them tremble instead of questioning and prying. This is what an excellent teacher does: he does not follow his students’ whims everywhere, but leads them to his own understanding. He pulls up the thorns and then plants the seed, and does not always answer the questions put to him immediately. Ver. 20, 21. “Will the thing formed say to Him Who formed it, Why have You made me this way? Does not the potter (Read Jer. xviii. 1–10) have authority to make from the same lump one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?” He does not say this to abolish free will, but to show how completely we ought to obey God. In regard to calling God to account, we should be no more inclined to do so than clay is. We should refrain not only from contradicting or questioning, but even from speaking or thinking about doing so at all. We should become like that lifeless material, which follows the potter’s hands and lets itself be drawn wherever he pleases. This is the only point to which he applied the illustration: not to lay down a rule about how life is determined, but to enforce complete obedience and silence upon us. We must observe this in every case: we are not to apply every detail of an illustration. We should select what is useful in it, the point for which it was introduced, and leave the rest alone. For instance, when he says, “He crouched, he lay down like a lion,” (Numb. xxiv. 9) let us take its unconquerable and fearsome qualities, not its brutality or any of a lion’s other traits. Again, when He says, “I will meet them like a bear robbed of her cubs” (Hos. xiii. 8), let us take its vengeance. And when he says, “our God is a consuming fire” (Deut. iv. 24; and Heb. xii. 29), let us take its destructive power in punishment. So here too we must distinguish the relevant point in the clay, the potter, and the vessels. And when he goes on to say, “Does not the potter have authority over the clay, to make from the same lump one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?” do not suppose Paul says this as an account of creation, or to imply that the will is under compulsion. He is illustrating sovereignty and the different ways it is exercised. If we do not understand it this way, various contradictions will follow. For if he were speaking here about the will and about those who are good and those who are not, God Himself would be their Maker as such, and man would be free of all responsibility. On this understanding Paul would also be shown to contradict himself, since he always gives the highest importance to free choice. His only purpose here, then, is to persuade the hearer to submit completely to God and never call Him to account for anything at all. For just as the potter, he says, makes whatever he pleases from the same lump and no one forbids it, so when God punishes some and honors others from the same human race, do not pry or interfere. Simply worship and imitate the clay. As it follows the potter’s hands, so you too should follow the mind of Him Who orders things this way. For He does nothing at random or by mere chance, even though you do not know the secret of His Wisdom. You allow the potter to make different things from the same lump and find no fault, yet you demand an account from God of His punishments and honors. You will not allow Him to know who is worthy and who is not, but because the same lump has the same substance, you claim that everyone has the same disposition. How outrageous this is! Yet even with things made from the lump, their honor or dishonor depends not on the potter, but on the use made of them by those who handle them. So here too it depends on free choice. Still, as I said before, we must take this illustration to have only one point: that we should not oppose God, but submit to His incomprehensible Wisdom. For examples must go beyond the subject and the things for which they are introduced, so as to move the hearer more effectively. If they did not go beyond it and rise far above it, he could not press his case as he should or shame the objectors. In this way, then, he silenced their ill-timed stubbornness with fitting authority. And then he introduces his answer. What is the answer? Ver. 22, 23, 24. “What if God, willing to show His anger and make His power known, endured with much patience the vessels of anger fitted for destruction; and that He might make known the riches of His glory on the vessels of mercy, which He had prepared beforehand for glory, even us, whom He has chosen, not only from the Jews, but also from the Gentiles.” His meaning is something like this. Pharaoh was a vessel of anger, that is, a man who had kindled God’s anger by his own hardness of heart. For after receiving much patience, he became no better, but remained unchanged. This is why he calls him not only “a vessel of anger,” but also one “fitted for destruction.” That is, fully fitted, but by himself. For God had left nothing undone that might restore him, and Pharaoh left nothing undone that would ruin him and put him beyond all forgiveness. Yet although God knew this, “He endured him with much patience,” because He wished to bring him to repentance. If He had not wished this, He would not have been so patient. But since Pharaoh would not use that patience to repent, and instead fully fitted himself for anger, God used him to correct others, making them better through the punishment inflicted on him and displaying His power in this way. For he had already shown in every possible way that God does not wish His power to be made known like this, but in another way, through His benefits and kindnesses. If even Paul does not wish to appear powerful in this way (“not that we should appear approved,” he says, “but that you should do what is right,”) (2 Cor. xiii. 7), much less does God. But after showing patience to lead him to repentance, when he did not repent, God continued to bear with him for a long time, so that He might display both His goodness and His power, even if that man was unwilling to benefit at all from such great patience. So just as He showed His power by punishing this man who remained incorrigible, He revealed His love toward man by pitying those who had committed many sins but repented. Yet the text does not say love toward man, but glory, to show that this above all is God’s glory and that this was what He sought most earnestly. But in saying “which He had prepared beforehand for glory,” he does not mean that everything is God’s doing. If that were so, nothing would prevent everyone from being saved. Instead, he is again showing His foreknowledge and removing the distinction between Jews and Gentiles. On this point he again bases a substantial defense of his statement. For it was not only among the Jews that some perished and some were saved; the same was true among the Gentiles. That is why he does not say all the Gentiles, but “from the Gentiles,” nor all the Jews, but “from the Jews.” So just as Pharaoh became a vessel of anger through his own lawlessness, these became vessels of mercy through their own readiness to obey. For although the greater part comes from God, they too have contributed some little part themselves. That is why he calls them neither vessels of good deeds nor vessels of boldness (παρρησίας), but “vessels of mercy,” to show that the whole comes from God. For the phrase “it does not depend on the one who wills or the one who runs,” even if it occurs as part of the objection, would still create no difficulty if Paul himself said it. When he says, “it does not depend on the one who wills or the one who runs,” he does not deprive us of free will, but shows that everything does not depend on us, since grace from above is required. We are bound both to will and to run, but to trust in God’s love toward man rather than in our own efforts. He has expressed this elsewhere: “Yet not I, but the grace that was with me.” (1 Cor. xv. 10.) And he rightly says, “Which He had prepared beforehand for glory.” For since they reproached them for being saved by grace and thought to shame them, he does far more than remove this insinuation. If this brought glory even to God, much more did it bring glory to those through whom God was glorified. But notice his restraint and indescribable wisdom. He could have used as an example of the punished, not Pharaoh, but those Jews who had sinned. He could thus have made his argument much clearer, showing that among people with the same fathers and the same sins, some perished and some were shown mercy. He could have persuaded them not to be uncertain even if some Gentiles were saved while Jews were perishing. Yet to avoid making his argument offensive, he takes his example of punishment from a foreigner, so that he will not be forced to call them “vessels of anger.” But he takes those who received mercy from the Jewish people. Besides, he has also said enough in God’s defense: although God knew very well that the nation was fitting itself as a vessel of destruction, He still contributed everything on His part—His patience, His forbearance, and not merely forbearance, but “much patience.” Yet Paul was still unwilling to state this directly against the Jews. Why, then, are some vessels of anger and some vessels of mercy? Because of their own free choice. God, however, being very good, shows the same kindness to both. He showed mercy not only to those who were being saved, but also to Pharaoh, as far as His own part was concerned. Both they and he benefited from the same patience. And if Pharaoh was not saved, it was entirely because of his own will, since as far as God was concerned, as much was done for him as for those who were saved. Having answered the question with the answer supplied by the facts, he then introduces the prophets, who made the same declarations beforehand, to strengthen his argument with further testimony. For Hosea, he says, wrote this long ago as follows: Ver. 25. “I will call those who were not My people My people, and her who was not beloved beloved.” Here, to prevent them from saying, You are deceiving us with plausible reasoning, he calls Hosea as a witness, who cries out and says, “I will call those who were not My people My people.” (Hos. ii. 23.) Who, then, are those who were not a people? Clearly, the Gentiles. And who is the one not beloved? The same people again. Yet he says that they will become at once a people, beloved, and sons of God. Ver. 26. “For they too will be called,” he says, “the children of the living God.” But if they claim that this was said about those Jews who believed, the argument still stands. For if people who, after so many benefits, had become hard-hearted and estranged and had lost their standing as a people underwent so great a change, what prevents those who were strangers from the beginning, rather than becoming estranged after being received by Him, from being called and, provided they obey, considered worthy of the same blessings? Having finished with Hosea, he is not content with him alone, but brings in Isaiah after him, sounding in harmony with him. Ver. 27. “For Isaiah,” he says, “cries out concerning Israel.” That is, he speaks boldly and hides nothing. Why, then, accuse us, when they declared the same thing beforehand with a voice louder than a trumpet? And what does Isaiah cry out? “Though the number of the children of Israel is like the sand of the sea, a remnant will be saved.” (Is. x. 22.) Do you see that he too does not say that everyone will be saved, but those who are worthy? For I do not consider their great numbers, he means, nor does a race spread so far trouble me; I save only those who show themselves worthy of it. He does not mention the “sand of the sea” without a reason, but to remind them of the ancient promise of which they had made themselves unworthy. Why, then, are you troubled as though the promise had failed, when all the Prophets show that not everyone will be saved? Then he also mentions the way they will be saved. Notice the Prophet’s precision and the Apostle’s discernment: what a witness he has cited, and how perfectly suited to the point! For it not only shows us that some will be saved rather than all, but also adds how they will be saved. How, then, will they be saved, and how will God consider them worthy of this benefit? Ver. 28. “He will finish the work and cut it short in righteousness,” he says, “because the Lord will make a short work on the earth.” (Ib. 23, LXX.) His meaning is something like this. There is no need for a roundabout route, for toil, or for the distress of the works of the Law, because the way to salvation is very short. Such is faith: it holds salvation in a few short words. “For if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus and believe in your heart that God has raised Him from the dead, you will be saved.” (Rom. x. 9.) Now you see what “the Lord will make a short word (LXX. lit.) on earth” means. And what is truly wonderful is that this short word brings with it not only salvation, but also righteousness. Ver 29. “And as Isaiah said before, Unless the Lord of Sabaoth had left us a seed, we would have become like Sodom, and been made like Gomorrah.” (Is. i. 9.) Here again he shows something else: not even those few were saved by their own resources. For they too would have perished and suffered Sodom’s fate; that is, they would have undergone complete destruction (for they (of Sodom) were also destroyed root and branch and left not even the slightest remnant of themselves). They too, he means, would have been like these, unless God had shown them great kindness and saved them by faith. This also happened in the case of the physical captivity: the majority were taken away captive and perished, and only a few were saved. Ver. 30, 31. “What will we say then? That the Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, have attained righteousness, the righteousness that comes by faith. But Israel, who pursued the law of righteousness, has not attained the law of righteousness.” Here at last is the clearest answer. For after using proof from the facts (“for not all who are of Israel are Israel”), from the case of the ancestors Jacob and Esau, and from the prophets Hosea and Isaiah, he now gives the most decisive answer, after first increasing the difficulty. Two points, then, are being discussed: first, that the Gentiles attained righteousness; second, that they attained it without pursuing it, that is, without working for it. Again, in the Jews’ case there are two similar difficulties: first, that Israel did not attain it; second, that although they worked for it, they did not attain it. This is also why his wording is more emphatic. He does not say that they had righteousness, but that they “attained righteousness.” What is especially new and unusual is that those who pursued it did not attain it, while those who did not pursue it attained it. He seems to be treating them gently by saying they “pursued” it. But afterward he drives the blow home. Since he had a strong answer to give them, he was not afraid to make the objection a little harsher. That is why he does not speak of faith or the righteousness that follows from it either, but shows that even before faith, they were defeated and condemned on their own ground. For you, Jew, he says, have not found even the righteousness that came through the Law. You have broken it and become subject to the curse. But these people, who came by another road rather than through the Law, have found a greater righteousness than this, namely, the righteousness of faith. He had said this before too: “For if Abraham was justified by works, he has something to boast of, but not before God” (Rom. iv.), showing that the other righteousness was greater than this. Before, then, I said there were two difficulties, but now they have become three questions: the Gentiles found righteousness, found it without pursuing it, and found a righteousness greater than that of the Law. These same difficulties appear again in the Jews’ case from the opposite direction: Israel did not find righteousness, did not find it despite working for it, and did not find even the lesser righteousness. Having thus left his hearer puzzled, he proceeds to give a concise answer and explain the cause of everything he has said. What, then, is the cause? Ver. 32. “Because they did not seek it by faith, but as though by the works of the Law.” This is the clearest answer in the passage. If he had said it immediately at the start, he would not have gained so ready a hearing. But since he sets it down after many difficulties, preparations, and proofs, and after countless steps preparing the way, he has at last made it both more understandable and easier to accept. For this, he says, is the cause of their destruction: “Because it was not by faith, but as though by the works of the Law” that they wished to be justified. He does not say “by works,” but “as though by the works of the Law,” to show that they did not even have this righteousness. “For they stumbled over that stumbling stone;” Ver. 33. “As it is written, Look, I lay in Zion a stumbling stone and a rock of offense, and whoever believes in Him will not be put to shame.” You see again how boldness comes from faith, and the gift is universal, since this is said not only of the Jews, but also of the whole human race. For everyone, he means, whether Jew, Greek, Scythian, Thracian, or anyone else, will enjoy the privilege of great boldness if he believes. But the remarkable thing about the Prophet is that he foretells not only that they will believe, but also that they will not believe. For to stumble is to disbelieve. Just as in the earlier passage he points out both those who perish and those who are saved, where he says, “If the number of the children of Israel is like the sand of the sea, the remnant will be saved. And, If the Lord of Sabaoth had not left us a seed, we would have become like Sodom.” And, “He has called not only from the Jews, but also from the Gentiles,” so here too he indicates that some will believe and some will stumble. But stumbling comes from inattention, from staring at other things. Since, then, they were paying attention to the Law, they stumbled over the stone. He calls it “a stone of stumbling and rock of offense” because of the character and fate of those who do not believe. Is the language clear to you now, or does it still need much clarification? I think those who have been paying attention can readily understand it clearly. But if anyone has forgotten it, you can meet privately and learn what it meant. This is why I have spent longer on this explanatory part of the discourse: so that I would not be forced to interrupt the flow of the passage and spoil the clarity of its statements. For this reason too, I will end my discourse here without saying anything to you about the more directly practical matters, as I generally do, so that saying so much does not blur your memories again. It is now time to reach the proper ending by closing the discourse with praise to the God of all. Let us both pause, then—I who am speaking and you who are listening—and offer glory to Him. For His is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory, forever and ever. Amen.