Homilies on Romans, Homily 20

“I urge you therefore, brothers, by the mercies of God, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” After speaking at length about God’s love for humanity and showing His indescribable concern for us and His inexpressible goodness, which cannot even be fully explored, he now uses this to persuade those who have received the benefit to live in a way worthy of the gift. And although he is so great and good a person, he does not hesitate to plead with them, and he does this for their benefit, not for any pleasure he expects to gain himself. And why be surprised that he does not hesitate to plead, when he even brings God’s mercies before them? Since, he means, you have received those countless blessings from this source, from God’s mercies, honor them and let them move you to compassion. For the mercies themselves take the position of petitioners, asking you to do nothing unworthy of them. I appeal to you, then, he means, by the very things through which you were saved. It is as though someone who wanted a person who had received great kindness to show respect brought that person’s benefactor before him as a petitioner. And what are you pleading for? Let me hear. “That you present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy, acceptable to God, which is your reasonable service.” For when he said “sacrifice,” he immediately added (Greek order) “living,” to keep anyone from thinking he was telling them to kill themselves. Then, to distinguish it from the Jewish sacrifice, he calls it “holy, acceptable to God, your reasonable service.” For theirs was material, and not very acceptable either. For He says, “Who has required this from your hands?” (Isa. i. 12.) And in various other passages He clearly rejects their sacrifices. For He wanted this to be presented together with the other, not by itself. That is why He says, “The sacrifice of praise will glorify Me.” And again, “I will praise the name of my God with a song, and this will please him better than a young bull that grows horns and hoofs.” (Ps. l. 23; lxix. 30, 31.) And so in another place He rejects it and says, “Will I eat the flesh of bulls or drink goats’ blood?” (ib. l. 13) and continues, “Offer God a sacrifice of praise, and pay your vows to the Most High.” (ib. 14.) So Paul also tells us here to “present our bodies as a living sacrifice.” But how, someone may ask, can the body become a sacrifice? Let the eye look at nothing evil, and it has become a sacrifice; let your tongue say nothing filthy, and it has become an offering; let your hand do nothing unlawful, and it has become a whole burnt offering. Or rather, this is not enough: we must also do good works. Let the hand give to the poor, the mouth bless those who offend us, and the ear always make time to hear Scripture read. For sacrifice admits nothing unclean: sacrifice is a first-fruit of our other actions. So let us offer God a first-fruit from our hands, feet, mouth, and every other part of our bodies. Such a sacrifice is pleasing, whereas the Jews’ sacrifice was actually unclean, for “their sacrifices,” it says, “are to them like the bread of mourning.” (Hos. ix. 4.) Ours is different. That sacrifice presented the thing sacrificed dead; this one makes the thing sacrificed alive. For when we have put our members to death, then we will be able to live. The law of this sacrifice is new, and so its fire is also extraordinary. It needs no wood or other fuel beneath it; our fire lives by itself and does not burn up the victim, but instead gives it life. This is the sacrifice God sought long ago. That is why the Prophet says, “The sacrifice of God is a broken spirit.” (Ps. li. 17.) And the three Children offer this when they say, “At this time there is neither prince, nor prophet, nor leader, nor burnt offering, nor place to sacrifice before You and find mercy. Nevertheless, with a contrite heart and a humble spirit let us be accepted.” (Song of 3 Ch. 15, 16.) And notice how precisely he uses each word. He does not say, offer (ποιήσατε Ex. xxix. 39. LXX.) your bodies as a sacrifice, but “present” (παραστήσατε see below) them, as if he had said, no longer claim any ownership of them. You have given them over to another. For even those who supply (same word) warhorses have no further ownership of them. You too have presented your members for war against the devil and for that fearsome battle formation. Do not lower them to selfish uses. He also shows something else by this: if we intend to present them, we must make them fit for acceptance. For we present them to no mortal being, but to God, the King of the universe; not merely for war, but for the King Himself to sit upon them. For He does not refuse even to sit upon our members, but greatly desires it. And what no king who is merely our fellow servant would choose to do, the Lord of Angels chooses to do. Since, then, the body is both to be presented (i.e. as for a King’s use) and a sacrifice, rid it of every blemish, because if it has a blemish, it will no longer be a sacrifice. For neither can an eye that looks lustfully be sacrificed, nor a grasping, predatory hand be presented, nor feet that limp and go to theaters, nor a belly enslaved to self-indulgence that kindles desires for pleasure, nor a heart filled with rage and love for prostitutes, nor a tongue that says filthy things. So we must search our bodies on every side for blemishes. For if those who offered sacrifices long ago were told to inspect them on every side and were not allowed to offer an animal “that has anything extra or missing, or has a skin disease or scabs” (Lev. xxii. 22, 23), we who offer ourselves, rather than animals without understanding, must be much more careful and pure in every respect, so that we too may be able to say, as Paul did, “I am now ready to be offered, and the time of my departure is near.” (2 Tim. iv. 6.) For he was purer than any sacrifice, and so he speaks of himself as “ready to be offered.” But this will happen if we kill the old man, if we put to death our members that are on the earth, if we crucify the world to ourselves. In this way we will no longer need a knife, an altar, or fire—or rather, we will need all these, but none made by human hands. They will all come to us from above: fire from above, and a knife as well, and the expanse of Heaven will be our altar. For if, when Elijah offered the visible sacrifice, a flame came down from above and consumed all the water, wood, and stones, this will happen to you much more. And if there is anything lax and worldly in you, but you offer the sacrifice with a good intention, the fire of the Spirit will come down, burn away that worldliness, and perfect (so Field: mss. “carry up”) the whole sacrifice. But what is “reasonable (λογικὴ) service?” It means spiritual ministry, a life lived according to Christ. Just as someone who serves and officiates in God’s house, whatever sort of person he may be, then composes himself (συστέλλεται Ezech. xliv. 19) and becomes more reverent and dignified, so we should approach our whole lives as people serving and ministering. And this will happen if every day you bring Him sacrifices (3 mss. “thyself as a sacrifice”) and become the priest of your own body and of your soul’s virtue: for example, when you offer self-control, generosity to the poor, goodness, and patience. For in doing this you offer “a reasonable service” (or worship, λατρείαν), that is, one containing nothing bodily, coarse, or visible. Having lifted the hearer’s thoughts through the terms he uses, and having shown that each person is a priest of his own flesh through the way he lives, he also explains how we can accomplish all this. What, then, is the way? Ver. 2. “And do not be shaped to match this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind.” For the shape of this world is low and worthless and lasts only a short time. It has nothing lofty, lasting, or upright, but is completely distorted. So if you want to walk uprightly (or aright ὀρθὰ), do not shape yourself to match the pattern of this present life. For nothing in it lasts or remains stable. This is why he calls it a shape (σχἥμα); and so in another passage, “the shape of this world passes away.” (1 Cor. vii. 31.) For it has no permanence or stability; everything in it lasts only for a season. And so he calls it this age (or world, Gr. αἰών), indicating its vulnerability to misfortune, and by the word “shape” its lack of substance. For whether you speak of wealth, glory, physical beauty, luxury, or any other of its seemingly great things, it is only an outward shape, not reality, a show and a mask, not any lasting substance (ὑπόστασις). But “do not be shaped to match this, but be transformed,” he says, “by the renewing of your mind.” He does not say, change your outward shape, but “be transformed” (μεταμορφοὕ), to show that the world’s ways are an outward shape, while virtue is not an outward shape but a kind of real form, with a natural beauty of its own that has no need of the tricks and fashions of outward things, which disappear as soon as they appear. For all these things are already dissolving even before they come to light. So if you throw aside the outward shape, you will quickly reach the form. For nothing is weaker than vice; nothing grows old so easily. Then, since as human beings they would likely sin every day, he comforts his hearer by saying, “renew yourself” from day to day. This is what we do with houses: we constantly repair them as they grow old. Do the same with yourself. Have you sinned today? Have you made your soul old? Do not despair or lose heart, but renew it through repentance, tears (Hilary on Ps. cxix.), confession, and good deeds. And never stop doing this. And how are we to do this? “So that you may discern (things more beneficial (διαφέροντα), and know) what is the good, acceptable, and perfect will of God.” Either he means, be renewed so that you may learn what is more beneficial for you and what God’s will is. Or rather, you can be renewed in this way if you learn what is beneficial and what God wills. For if you see this and know how to distinguish the nature of things, you possess the whole path of virtue. And who, someone may ask, does not know what is beneficial and what God’s will is? Those who are swept up in the things of this world, who consider wealth enviable, who look down on poverty, who pursue power, who hunger for outward glory, who think themselves great when they build fine houses, buy expensive tombs, keep herds of slaves, and take a great swarm of eunuchs around with them—these do not know what is beneficial for them or what God’s will is. For these two are one and the same. God wills what benefits us, and what God wills also benefits us. What, then, does God will? That we live in poverty, in humility, in contempt for glory; in self-restraint, not self-indulgence; in affliction, not ease; in sorrow, not wild partying and laughter; and according to all the other things about which He has given us laws. But most people actually regard these things as bad omens; they are that far from considering them beneficial and God’s will. This, then, is why they can never even begin the hard work required for virtue. For if they do not even know what virtue is, but honor vice in its place and take a prostitute into their bed instead of a modest wife, how can they keep their distance from the present world? So above all we must judge things correctly, and even if we do not pursue virtue, we must praise it; even if we do not avoid vice, we must condemn it, so that at least our judgments remain uncorrupted. For as we advance along our road in this way, we will be able to grasp the realities themselves. This, then, is why he also tells you to be renewed, “so that you may discern what God’s will is.” But here he also seems to me to be challenging the Jews who cling to the Law. For the old dispensation was a will of God, yet not His ultimate purpose; it was permitted because of their weakness. But the perfect and pleasing will is the new way of life. So too, when he called it “a reasonable service,” he gave it that name to contrast it with the other (v. note p. 496). Ver. 3. “For through the grace given to me, I say to everyone among you not to think more highly of himself than he ought to think, but to think soberly, according to the measure of faith God has allotted to each person.” After saying above, “I urge you by the mercies,” here he says again, “by the grace.” Notice the teacher’s humility; notice his thoroughly humble spirit! He means that he himself has no claim at all to be trusted in giving such an exhortation and counsel. But at one time he appeals to God’s mercies, and at another to His grace. It is not my own word that I am speaking, he means, but a word from God. And he does not say, For I say to you by God’s wisdom, or, For I say to you by the Law given by God, but “by the grace,” constantly reminding them of the benefits they have received, to make them more willing to submit and to show that these benefits themselves obliged them to obey what he says here. “To everyone among you.” Not just to this person or that, but to rulers and the ruled, slaves and the free, the uneducated and the wise, women and men, the young and the old. For the Law applies to everyone alike, because it is the Lord’s. By this he also keeps his language from giving offense, directing his lessons to everyone, even those who do not need them, so that those who do need them may more willingly accept such rebuke and correction. And what are you saying? Let me hear. “Not to think more highly than he ought to think.” Here he brings before us the mother of good deeds, humility, imitating his own Master. For when He went up the mountain and was about to give a connected series of moral commands, He began with this and made it the foundation, saying, “Blessed are the poor in spirit” (Matt. v. 3). So Paul too, having now moved from doctrine to more practical matters, has taught us virtue in general terms by requiring that admirable sacrifice. And as he is about to describe it in greater detail, he begins with humility as its head and tells us “not to think more highly of oneself than one ought to think,” (for this is His will), (many mss. om. for etc.), “but to think soberly.” His meaning is something like this: we have received wisdom to make us sober-minded, not to use it to become proud. And he does not say, to make us humble-minded, but to make us sober, meaning by sobriety (σωφροσύνη) here neither the virtue opposed to sexual immorality nor freedom from excessive indulgence, but a sober and healthy mind. And its Greek name means keeping the mind safe. So, to show that someone who is not this modest (μετριάζοντα) cannot be sober either—that is, cannot have a steady and healthy mind (because such a person is confused, out of his mind, and more deranged than any madman)—he calls humility sobriety of mind. “According to the measure of faith God has allotted to each person.” For since receiving gifts had made many people unreasonably proud, both among these people and among the Corinthians, see how he exposes the cause of the disease and gradually removes it. After saying that we should think soberly, he continues, “according to the measure of faith God has allotted to each person,” meaning here the gift received through faith. And by using the word “allotted,” he comforts the person who received less and humbles the person who received a greater share. For if God allotted it and it is no achievement of yours, why think highly of yourself? But if anyone says that faith here does not mean the gift, this would show even more clearly that he was humbling the empty boasters. For if what causes the gift (so Field with most mss.: Vulg. “If the faith by which miracles are wrought is the cause of the gift”), that faith through which miracles are worked, is itself from God, on what grounds do you think highly of yourself? If He had not come or become incarnate, the things of faith would not have prospered either. And this is where all good things begin. But if He is the one who gives it, He knows how He distributes it. For He made everyone and cares equally for everyone. And just as His giving came from His love for humanity, so does the amount He gives. For would He, Who showed His goodness in the main matter, giving the gift, be likely to neglect you in deciding its measure? For if He had wanted to dishonor you, He would not have given the gifts at all. But if His purpose was to save and honor you (and this is why He came and distributed such great blessings), why are you bewildered and upset, misusing your wisdom to become foolish and making yourself more disgraceful than someone who is foolish by nature? For being foolish by nature is no reason for blame. But becoming foolish through wisdom both strips you of any excuse and brings you greater punishment. Such are those who pride themselves on their wisdom and fall into extreme recklessness. For recklessness, more than anything else, makes a person a fool. That is why the Prophet calls the barbarian by this name. “The fool,” he says, “will speak folly.” (Is. xxxii. 6.) But to see his folly from his own words, hear what he says. “I will place my throne above the stars of heaven, and I will be like the Most High.” (ib. xiv. 14.) “I will seize the world like a nest, and I will gather them up like abandoned eggs.” (ib. x. 14.) Now what could be more foolish than these words? Every instance of arrogant speech immediately brings this reproach upon itself. And if I put before you every expression used by the reckless, you would not be able to tell whether the words belonged to a reckless person or a fool. These two failings are so completely alike. And another man from a foreign nation says, “I am God and not man” (Ezech. xxviii. 2); and yet another, “Can God save you or deliver you from my hand?” (Dan. iii. 15.) And the Egyptian too: “I do not know the Lord, and I will not let Israel go.” (Ex. v. 2.) The foolish person in the Psalmist is of this kind as well, who has “said in his heart, There is no God.” (Ps. xiv. 1.) And Cain: “Am I my brother’s keeper?” (Gen. iv. 9.) Can you now tell whether these are the words of the reckless or of the fool? For recklessness exceeds proper limits and departs from reason (whence its name recklessness, ἀπόνοια), making people both foolish and conceited. For just as “the beginning of wisdom is the fear of the Lord” (Prov. ix. 10), so surely the beginning of folly is not knowing the Lord. If knowing Him is wisdom, and not knowing Him is folly, and this ignorance comes from arrogance (ὑπερηφανία), (for the beginning of arrogance is not knowing the Lord), then arrogance is the height of folly. Such was Nabal, if not toward God, at least toward other people, having lost his senses through recklessness. But afterward he died of fear. For when anyone falls below the proper measure of wisdom, he becomes both cowardly and bold at once (θρασυδειλοὶ Ar. Eth. iii.), because his soul has grown weak. Just as the body, when it loses its proper vigor and falls out of condition, becomes prey to any disease, so too the soul, when it loses its natural greatness and humility and develops some weak disposition (ἕξιν), becomes fearful as well as bold and unreasonable, and loses its ability to understand itself. And how can someone who has lost this ability know things above himself? Just as someone seized by frenzy, after losing this ability, does not even recognize what is right in front of him, and an eye, when its sight is dimmed, leaves all the other members in darkness, so it is with this recklessness. That is why these people are more miserable than the insane or those who are foolish by nature. Like them, they provoke laughter, and like them, they are bad-tempered. They are out of their minds like the others, but they do not receive the same pity. They are beside themselves like the others, but they do not receive the same excuse; they are only hated. They have the failings of both groups but the excuse of neither, and they are ridiculous not only in their words but in their whole appearance. For why, tell me, do you stiffen your neck? Why walk on tiptoe? Why draw your eyebrows together? Why stick out your chest? You cannot make one hair white or black, (Matt. v. 36) yet you walk so grandly, as if you could command everything. No doubt you would like to have wings and never walk on the earth at all! No doubt you would like to be a marvel! For have you not already made yourself a monstrous spectacle, when you are human and try to fly—or rather, fly from within and swell in every limb? What should I call you to rid you of your recklessness? Should I call you ashes, dust, smoke, and a commotion? I have described your worthlessness, certainly, but I still have not found the precise image I want. For I want to picture their swollen pride and all its emptiness. What image can I find that captures all this? To me it seems like loose flax fibers in a blaze. They seem to swell when lit and lift themselves up, but at a light touch of the hand they all collapse and prove more worthless than the merest ashes. These people’s souls are like that: even the most ordinary attack can humble and bring down their empty, inflated pride. For someone who behaves recklessly must necessarily be thoroughly weak, since the height he reaches has no solid foundation. Just as bubbles burst easily, these people are easily brought down. But if you do not believe me, show me a bold, reckless fellow, and you will find him more cowardly than a hare even at the most trivial event. For a flame rising from dry sticks turns to dust almost as soon as it is lit, while solid logs naturally resist catching fire but then keep their flame burning for a long time. In the same way, resolute and firm souls are not easily set ablaze or extinguished, but these people experience both in a single moment. Since we know this, let us practice humility. For nothing is so powerful: it is stronger than rock and harder than diamond, and it gives us greater safety than towers, cities, and walls, rising too high for any of the devil’s artillery. Recklessness, then, makes people easy prey even to ordinary events, since, as I was saying, it breaks more easily than a bubble, tears more quickly than a spider’s web, and dissolves faster than smoke. So, to walk on solid rock, let us leave recklessness behind and embrace humility. For in this way we will find rest in this present life and receive every blessing in the world to come, by grace and love for humanity, etc.