Homily 5 — Romans 1, verse 28, to 2, verse 16

“Just as they did not see fit to keep God in their knowledge, God gave them over to a debased mind, to do the things that are not fitting.” [a]

So that he would not seem to be hinting at his readers by lingering so long over the sin against nature, he next passes on to other kinds of sin as well, and for this reason he carries on the whole discussion as though it concerned other people. That is what he always does. When he talks to believers about sins and wants to show that they must be avoided, he brings in the pagans, saying, “not in the passion of craving, like the Gentiles who do not know God” (First Thessalonians 4, verse 5). And again: “that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope” (First Thessalonians 4, verse 13). So here too he shows that the sins belonged to them, and he strips them of every excuse.

For he says that their daring deeds came not from ignorance but from deliberate practice. That is why he did not say, “and as they did not know God,” but “as they did not see fit to keep God in their knowledge.” It is as if he said that the sin came from a perverse and stubborn choice rather than from being swept away all at once. And he shows that the sins belonged not to the flesh, as some heretics say, but to the mind and its wicked craving, and that this was the spring from which the evils flowed. For once the mind has lost its power to tell things apart, everything else is dragged off course and overturned, since the one who held the reins has been corrupted!

Verse 29: “Being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, greed, malice.” [f]

See how everything here is made stronger. He says “being filled,” and “with all.” And having named malice in general, he goes on to pursue the particulars too, and these as well in their excess, saying, “full of envy, murder.” The second of these comes from the first, as was shown in the case of Abel and in Joseph’s. Then he says, “strife, deceit, malignity.”

Verse 30: “Gossips, slanderers, haters of God, insolent.” Having counted among his charges things that to many seem of no importance, he strengthens the accusation still further. He climbs to the very stronghold of their wickedness and calls them “boasters.” For to be haughty even while sinning is worse than the sinning itself. That is why he also charges the Corinthians with it, saying, “You are puffed up” (First Corinthians 5, verse 2).

If someone who puffs himself up over a good deed loses everything, what punishment does he not deserve who does it over his sins? Such a person can no longer repent. Next he says, “inventors of evil things,” showing that they were not content with the evils that already existed but invented others besides. This again is the mark of people who act with full purpose and in earnest, not of those who are swept away and forced off course. After listing the different kinds of malice, and showing that here too they set themselves against nature itself — for he says, “disobedient to parents” — he goes on to the root of this great plague, calling them, in verse 31, “without natural affection, implacable.”

This is what Christ himself declares to be the cause of wickedness, when he says, “When lawlessness abounds, the love of many will grow cold” (Matthew 24, verse 12). Paul says the same thing here, calling them “covenant-breakers, without natural affection, implacable, merciless,” and showing that they were traitors even to the gift of nature. For even by nature we have a kind of family feeling toward one another, which even the animals have toward each other. “Every animal,” it says, “loves its like, and every person his neighbor” (Sirach 13, verse 15). But these people became more savage even than the animals. So by these witnesses he proves to us the disorder that came upon the world through evil teachings, and he shows clearly that in both cases the sickness came from the carelessness of those who were sick.

Besides this, he shows, as he did in the case of their teachings, that here too they were stripped of every excuse. So he says, in verse 32: “Who, knowing the judgment of God, that those who do such things deserve death, not only do the same, but take pleasure in those who do them.”

Here he takes up two objections, and he removes them at the very start. What he means is this: “What reason do you have for saying that you do not know what ought to be done? Even at best, if you did not know, you are to blame for having left God, who instructs you. But as it is, we have shown by many arguments that you do know, and that you do wrong willingly. Or are you dragged along by passion? Then why do you work along with it, and even praise it?” For they “not only do such things,” he says, “but take pleasure in those who do them.” [g]

So he put first the more grievous sin, the one that cannot be pardoned, to be done with it — for the one who praises a sin is far worse even than the one who commits it. Having put this first, he comes to grips with him more forcefully in what follows, speaking like this. Chapter 2, verse 1: “Therefore you have no excuse, my friend, whoever you are who judge. For in the very thing in which you judge another, you condemn yourself.”

He says this with the rulers in view, since that city then held the rule of the world in its hands. So he gets ahead of them by saying: “You are stripping yourself of any defense, whoever you may be. When you condemn an adulterer and commit adultery yourself, then even if no one condemns you, in your judgment on the guilty man you have passed sentence on yourself as well.” [i]

Verse 2: “For we know that the judgment of God against those who do such things is according to truth.”

So that no one should say, “I have escaped until now,” he frightens him by saying that it is not with God as it is here. Here one person is punished while another escapes, though doing the same thing. But hereafter it is not so. So he has said that the one who judges knows what is right; but how he knows it he has not added, for that was unnecessary. In the case of ungodliness he showed both that the ungodly man was ungodly even while knowing God, and where he got that knowledge — namely, from the creation. Since that was not plain to everyone, he gave the reason as well; but here he passes over it as something admitted.

But when he says, “whoever you are who judge,” he is not addressing the rulers alone, but private persons and subjects as well. For everyone, even those who have no seat of office, no executioners and no stocks at their command, still judges those who do wrong — in conversation, in public gatherings, and by the vote of their own conscience. No one would dare to say that the adulterer does not deserve punishment. But it is others they condemn, he says, and not themselves. That is why he confronts them so forcefully, and says, in verse 3: “And do you suppose, my friend, you who judge those who do such things and do the same yourself, that you will escape the judgment of God?”

He had shown that the sin of the world was great: from its teachings and from its deeds; that they sinned even though they were wise, and though they had the creation to lead them by the hand; not only by leaving God, but by choosing images of creeping things; and by dishonoring virtue and deserting, though nature pulled them back, to the service of vice, even against nature. Now he goes on to show that those who do such things are also punished. He had in fact pointed to a punishment at once, by mentioning the very things they practiced: “they received in themselves,” he says, “the penalty for their error which was due.” But since they do not feel that one, he mentions another as well, the one they feared most. And indeed he had already pointed chiefly to this. When he says, “that the judgment of God is according to truth,” he is speaking of nothing else. [k]

But he establishes the same point again on further grounds, saying, “And do you suppose, my friend, you who judge those who do such things and do the same yourself, that you will escape the judgment of God?” You have not been acquitted by your own judgment; will you escape by God’s? Who would say that? And yet you have judged yourself. Since your own court was so strict that you could not spare even yourself, how will God, who cannot go wrong and who is just in the highest sense, not be much surer to do the same? You have condemned yourself — and is God to approve of you and praise you? How can that be reasonable? And all the while you deserve a greater punishment than the man you condemned. For simply to sin is not the same as falling back into the very sins you have punished another for committing. See how he has strengthened the charge!

What he means is this: “If you punish someone who has committed smaller sins, even though you put yourself to shame by doing it, how will God not rule against you and condemn you more severely, when you have committed greater wrongs? And this when he will never put himself to shame, and you stand condemned already by your own reckoning.”

But perhaps you say, “I know that I deserve punishment,” and yet, because of his patience, you make light of it, and feel confident because you are not punished at once. Surely this is the very reason you ought to fear and tremble. The fact that you have not yet been punished will not end in your never being punished; it will end in your being punished more severely, if you remain unchanged. And so he goes on to say:

Verse 4: “Or do you despise the riches of his goodness and forbearance and patience, not knowing that the goodness of God leads you to repentance?”

Having praised God’s patience and shown how great its gain is for those who pay attention to it — and that gain is that it draws sinners to repentance — he adds to the terror. For to those who use it rightly it is a ground of safety, but to those who make light of it, it leads to a greater punishment. Whenever you repeat that common saying, that God does not exact justice because he is good and patient, he says, “You are only naming what will make the punishment more intense.” For God shows his goodness so that you may get free of your sins, not so that you may add to them. If you do not use it that way, the judgment will be more fearful. So the fact that God is patient is a chief reason for keeping away from sin, not a benefit to be turned into an excuse for stubbornness. For if he is patient, he will most certainly punish.

How does that appear? From what comes next. If the wickedness is great and the wicked have not been repaid, it is absolutely necessary that they be repaid. If people do not overlook such things, how could God let them pass? So from this point he brings in the subject of the judgment. For pointing to many who are liable if they do not repent, yet still go unpunished here, necessarily brings the judgment in with it — and a heavier one. That is why he says, in verse 5: “But by your hardness and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself.”

When a person can neither be softened by goodness nor turned back by fear, what could be harder than such a person? Having shown God’s goodness toward people, he then shows that his punishment is unbearable for anyone who does not turn back to repentance even so. [l]

And notice how precisely he uses his words! “You are storing up wrath for yourself,” he says, making it plain that what is laid up is certain, and showing that the author of it is not the one who judges but the one who is condemned. For he says, “you are storing up for yourself,” not “God for you.” God did everything that was fitting. He created you with the power to tell good from what is not good; he showed patience toward you; he called you to repentance; he threatened a fearful day — drawing you to repentance by every means.

But if you remain unyielding, “you are storing up wrath for yourself against the day of wrath and revelation and righteous judgment of God.” So that when you hear of wrath you do not think of it as a passion, he adds, “the righteous judgment of God.”

He was right to say “revelation,” for that is when it is revealed, when each person receives what he deserves. Here many people often trouble others and do them harm unjustly. But hereafter it is not so. [m]

Verses 6 and 7: “Who will repay each one according to his deeds: to those who by patient endurance in doing good…”

He had become awe-inspiring and harsh by speaking of the judgment and of the punishment to come. So he does not at once, as one might expect, go on to the punishment, but turns his discourse to something sweeter, the reward of good deeds, speaking as follows. Verse 7: “To those who by patient endurance in doing good seek for glory and honor and immortality, eternal life.”

Here too he rouses those who had shrunk back in their trials, and shows that it is not right to rely on faith alone, for that court will inquire into deeds as well. But notice how, when he speaks of the things to come, he cannot describe the blessings clearly, but speaks of glory and honor. Since they surpass everything human, he has no image drawn from this world to show them by. Instead he sets them before us as far as he can through the things that have some look of brightness among us: glory, honor, life. These are what people strive for most earnestly. Yet those blessings are not these things, but far better than these, since they are incorruptible and immortal.

See how he has opened to us the doors to the resurrection of the body by speaking of incorruption! For incorruption belongs to the body that is subject to decay. Then, since this was not enough, he added glory and honor. For all of us will rise incorruptible, but not all to glory: some to punishment, and some to life.

Verse 8: “But to those who are contentious…” [n]

Again he strips of excuse those who live in wickedness, and shows that it is out of a kind of quarrelsomeness and carelessness that they fall into unrighteousness.

“And do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness.” See, here is yet another charge! What defense can a person make who flees from the light and chooses the dark? And he does not say “who are forced” or “who are ruled,” but who “obey unrighteousness,” so that you may learn that the fall comes from free choice, and the crime is not one of necessity.

Verse 9: “Indignation and wrath, distress and anguish, on every human soul that does evil.”

That is, whether a man is rich, or a consul, or even a sovereign, none of them can face down the reckoning of the judgment, for there rank has no place. He had shown how enormous the disease was; he had added its cause, that it came from the carelessness of the sick; and finally, that destruction awaits them and that amendment is easy. Now, in the punishment too, he again gives the Jew the heavier share. For the one who had enjoyed a larger share of instruction would also deserve to suffer a larger share of punishment if he broke the law.

And so the wiser or the more powerful we are, the more we are punished if we sin. If you are rich, more money will be demanded of you than of the poor. If you are wiser than others, a stricter obedience. If you have been given authority, more shining acts of goodness. And so with everything else: you will have to bring in a return in proportion to your means.

Verse 10: “But glory, honor, and peace to everyone who does good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.” [q]

What Jew does he mean here, and what Gentiles is he speaking of? Those before Christ’s coming. His discussion had not yet reached the times of grace; he was still dwelling on the earlier times. In this way he was breaking down the separation between the Greek and the Jew from far off and in advance, and clearing it away, so that when he came to do this in the matter of grace, he would no longer seem to be devising some new and demeaning teaching. For if in the earlier times, when this grace had not yet shone out in such greatness, when the standing of the Jews was solemn and renowned and glorious before all people, there was no difference, what could they say for themselves now, after so great a display of grace? That is why he establishes the point so earnestly. For once the hearer has learned that this held in the earlier times, he will accept it much more readily after the coming of the faith.

But by Greeks he means here not those who worshiped idols, but those who revered God and obeyed the law of nature, and strictly kept everything that makes for godliness except the Jewish observances — such as Melchizedek and those with him, such as Job, such as the people of Nineveh, such as Cornelius. So here he is first breaking through the partition between the circumcision and the uncircumcision. From a distance and in advance he scatters the distinction, so as to do it without arousing suspicion, and to strike into the subject as though led there by another occasion — which is always a mark of his apostolic wisdom. If he had shown it in the times of grace, what he said would have looked very suspicious. But to describe the vice that held the world, and where the paths of wickedness end, and then to pass from there, step by step, into these points, keeps his teaching free of suspicion.

That this is what he means, and that he put things together this way for this purpose, is plain from the following. If he had not been intent on doing this, it would have been enough for him to say, “By your hardness and unrepentant heart you are storing up wrath for yourself against the day of wrath,” and then to drop the subject, since it would have been complete. But what he had in view was not only to speak of the judgment to come, but also to show that the Jew had no advantage over such a Greek, and so should not be haughty. That is why he goes further and speaks of them in order.

But consider. He had put the hearer in fear. He had set the fearful day before him. He had told him what an evil it is to live in wickedness, and had shown him that no one sins out of ignorance or goes unpunished, but that even if he suffers no punishment now, he will certainly suffer it. Then he wants to establish next that the teaching of the law was not a thing of great importance. For both punishment and reward depend on deeds, not on circumcision and uncircumcision. Since he had said that the Gentile will by no means go unpunished, and had taken this as granted, and on that basis had established that he will also be rewarded, he next showed that the law and circumcision were superfluous.

It is the Jews he is chiefly opposing here. They were somewhat inclined to find fault: first, out of their haughtiness, not deigning to be counted along with the Gentiles; and second, thinking it ridiculous that faith should do away with all sins. For this reason he accused the Gentiles first — the very people on whose behalf he is speaking — so that he could attack the Jews without arousing suspicion and with boldness. Then, having come to the question of punishment, he shows that the Jew is so far from being helped at all by the law that he is actually weighed down by it. This had been his aim for some time. For if the Gentile has no excuse on this score, because the creation and his own reasoning led him on and still he did not change, much more had the Jew none, who besides these had the teaching of the law as well.

Having persuaded him, then, to accept these arguments readily where other people’s sins were concerned, he now compels him, even against his will, to do the same about his own. And so that what he says may be more readily accepted, he leads him on with the better things in view as well, speaking like this: “But glory and honor and peace to everyone who does good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile.” For here, whatever good things a person has, he has them with conflict — even if he is rich, even if he is a ruler, even if he is a king. Even if he is not at odds with others, he is often at odds with himself, and has plenty of war in his own thoughts. But there it is nothing like that: all is calm and free of trouble, and in possession of true peace. So, having established from what was said above that those who do not have the law will enjoy the same blessings, he adds his reason in the following words:

Verse 11: “For there is no partiality with God.” [s]

When he says that the Jew as well as the Gentile is punished if he sins, he needs no arguments. But when he wants to prove that the Gentile is also honored, he needs a foundation for that too, since it seemed a wonderful and extravagant thing that someone who had heard neither the law nor the prophets should be honored for doing good. That is why, as I also said before, he trains their ears on the times before grace, so that afterward he may more easily bring in, along with the faith, the acceptance of these things too. For here he is not suspected at all, since he does not seem to be arguing for his own point.

So, having said, “Glory and honor and peace to everyone who does good, to the Jew first, and also to the Gentile,” he adds, “For there is no partiality with God.” Wonderful! He has won more than a victory! By reducing the opposite to an absurdity, he shows that it would not be fitting for God that things should be otherwise, since that would be a case of partiality — and God is not like that. And he does not say, “For if this were not so, God would be showing partiality,” but, with more dignity, “For there is no partiality with God.” That is, it is not the rank of persons but the difference of deeds that he inquires into.

By saying this he shows that it was not in deeds but only in persons that the Jew differed from the Gentile. The natural conclusion would be put like this: “For it is not because one is a Jew and the other a Gentile that one is honored and the other disgraced; each treatment comes from their works.” But he does not say so, since it would have roused the Jew’s anger. Instead he sets down something more, bringing their haughty spirit lower still and subduing it so that it would accept the rest. And what is that? The statement that follows.

Verse 12: “For as many,” he says, “as have sinned without law will also perish without law; and as many as have sinned in the law will be judged by the law.” [t]

Here, as I said before, he shows not only that the Jew and the Gentile stand on equal terms, but that the Jew was actually weighed down all the more by the gift of the law. For the Gentile is judged “without law.” But this “without law” points here not to the worse position but to the easier one: that is, he does not have the law to accuse him. “Without law” — that is, without the condemnation that comes from it — he is condemned solely by the reasoning of nature. But the Jew is judged “in the law,” that is, with both nature and the law to accuse him. For the greater the care he enjoyed, the greater the punishment he will suffer. See how much more urgently he presses the Jews to run quickly to grace! They were saying that they did not need grace, since they were counted righteous by the law. He shows that they need it more than the Gentiles, since they are liable to a greater punishment.

Then he adds yet another reason, and presses on in defense of what he has said. Verse 13: “For it is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God.”

He does well to add “before God.” Before men, perhaps, they may be able to look dignified and boast of great things, but before God it is quite otherwise: only the doers of the law are counted righteous. Do you see how skillfully he fights, turning what they said to the opposite effect?

For he is saying: “If it is by the law that you claim to be saved, then on this score the Gentile will stand ahead of you, once he is seen to be a doer of what is written in the law.” Someone may say: “And how is it possible for someone who has not heard to be a doer?” He says: “Not only is this possible, but something much greater than this. It is not only possible to be a doer without hearing; it is possible even to hear and not be a doer.” This last point he makes plainer, and with a still greater advantage over them, when he says, “You who teach another, do you not teach yourself?” (Romans 2, verse 21). But here he is still establishing the former point.

Verse 14: “For when the Gentiles,” he says, “who do not have the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, not having the law, are a law to themselves.”

What he means is: “I am not rejecting the law; on the contrary, even on this score I show the Gentiles to be in the right.” Do you see how, while he undermines the conceit of Judaism, he gives no one an opening to accuse him of running down the law? On the contrary, it is by praising the law and showing its greatness that he establishes his whole position. And whenever he says “by nature,” he means by the reasoning of nature.

He shows that these others are better than the Jews — and, what is more, better precisely because they have not received the law and do not have the very thing in which the Jews seem to have an advantage over them. This, he means, is why they deserve admiration: they needed no law, and yet they displayed all the deeds of the law, having engraved on their minds not the letters but the works. This is what he says in verse 15: “They show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts meanwhile accusing or else excusing one another.”

Verse 16: “On the day when God will judge the secrets of men by Jesus Christ, according to my good news.”

See how he again sets that day before them and brings it close to them, battering down their conceit and showing that those who, without the law, worked hard to carry out the things of the law deserved the greater honor. But the most remarkable thing about the apostle’s good judgment here is worth mentioning now. He has shown, from the grounds he gave, that the Gentile is greater than the Jew; yet in drawing the inference and concluding his argument he does not say so, in order not to provoke the Jew.

To make what I mean clearer, I will give the apostle’s very words. After saying that it is not the hearers of the law but the doers of the law who will be counted righteous, the next thing would have been to say: “For when the Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature the things contained in the law,” they are much better than those who are instructed by the law. But he does not say this. He stops at praising the Gentiles and does not yet carry his argument on into a comparison, so that the Jew, at least, may accept what is said. So he does not put it the way I did. How, then? “For when the Gentiles, who do not have the law, do by nature the things contained in the law, these, not having the law, are a law to themselves; they show the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness.” For conscience and reason are enough in place of the law. By this he showed, first, that God made man master of his own choices, able to choose virtue and to avoid vice.

Do not be surprised that he proves this point not once or twice but several times. It was a point he very much needed to prove, because of those who say: “Why in the world did Christ come only now? And where, in the times before, was this plan of providence?” These are the people he is beating back in passing here, when he shows that even in former times, before the law was given, human nature fully enjoyed the care of providence. For “what may be known of God was plain in them,” and they knew what was good and what was bad. That is how they judged others, and he reproaches them for it when he says, “In that you judge another, you condemn yourself.” But in the case of the Jews, besides everything already mentioned, there was the law, and not reason or conscience only. [v]

And why does he put in the words “accusing or else excusing”? If they have a law written within them and show its work in themselves, how can reason still accuse them? But he is no longer speaking only of those who do well; he is speaking of human nature as a whole. For then our own reasonings will stand up, some accusing and some excusing, and at that court a person needs no other accuser. Then, to add to their fear, he does not say “the sins of men” but “the secrets of men.” He had said, “Do you think, you who judge those who do such things and do the same, that you will escape the judgment of God?” So that you would not expect a sentence like the one you pass yourself, but would know that God’s is far more exact than yours, he brings in “the secrets of men,” and adds, “through Jesus Christ, according to my good news.” For human judges sit in judgment on open deeds alone.

Earlier, too, he spoke of the Father alone; but as soon as he had crushed them with fear, he brought in the mention of Christ as well. And even then he does not simply do that: here too he first mentions the Father, and only then introduces Christ. By the same words he also raises the dignity of his preaching. This preaching, he means, speaks out openly what nature had taught beforehand. Do you see with what wisdom he has bound them both to the good news and to Christ, and shown that our affairs do not come to a stop here but travel on further? He established this before, too, when he said, “You are storing up wrath for yourself against the day of wrath”; and here again, “God will judge the secrets of men.”

So let each of us enter into his own conscience, count up his offenses, and call himself to a strict account, so that we may not then “be condemned with the world” (First Corinthians 11, verse 32). For that court is fearful, the tribunal awesome, the reckoning full of trembling, and a river of fire rolls along. “A brother does not redeem; will a man redeem?” (Psalm 49, verse 8, as the Greek Old Testament reads it). Call to mind, then, what the Gospel says: the angels running to and fro, the bridal chamber shut, the lamps going out, the powers that drag people off to the furnaces. [x]

Think of this, too. If a secret deed of any one of us were brought out into the open today, before the church alone, what could he do but pray to perish, and for the earth to open and swallow him, rather than have so many witnesses of his wickedness? How, then, shall we feel when everything is brought out before the whole world, in a theater so bright and open, with people we know and people we do not know seeing into everything? But alas! To what am I forced to resort, frightening you with what people will think, when I ought to use the fear of God and his condemnation! For what, tell me, is to become of us then, when we are bound and gnashing our teeth and led away into the outer darkness? Or rather — and this is the most fearful thought of all — what shall we do when we offend God? Anyone who has sense and reason is already enduring hell when he is out of God’s sight. But since this does not pain us, fire is threatened. For we ought to feel the sting not when we are punished but when we sin. Listen, then, to Paul wailing and lamenting over sins for which he was not going to be punished.

“For I am not worthy,” he says, “to be called an apostle, because I persecuted the church” (First Corinthians 15, verse 9). Hear David too. He himself had been spared the punishment, yet because he thought he had offended God, he calls vengeance down on himself, saying, “Let your hand be upon me and upon my father’s house” (Second Samuel 24, verse 17). For to have offended God is more distressing than to be punished. But as things are, we are so wretchedly disposed that if there were no fear of hell, we would not even readily choose to do anything good. So, if for nothing else, for this at least we would deserve hell: that we fear hell more than Christ. But the blessed Paul was not like this; he was the very opposite. [z]

But since we feel otherwise, this is why we are condemned to hell. If we loved Christ as we ought to love him, we would know that to offend the one we love is more painful than hell. But since we do not love him, we do not know how great that punishment is. And this is what I grieve and mourn over most of all! And yet what has God not done to be loved by us? What has he not devised? What has he left undone? We insulted him when he had done us no wrong at all, but had even showered us with blessings beyond counting and beyond words. We turned away from him while he was calling us and drawing us to himself in every way; yet even for this he did not punish us, but ran after us himself and held us back as we fled. And we shook him off and leaped away to the devil. Even then he did not stand aloof, but sent countless messengers to call us back to him — prophets, angels, patriarchs. And we not only did not receive the embassy, we even insulted those who came.

Even for this he did not spit us out of his mouth. Like lovers who have been slighted and are deeply in earnest, he went around pleading with everyone — the heaven, the earth, Jeremiah, Micah — and not to weigh us down, but to plead the case for his own ways (Isaiah 1, verse 2; Jeremiah 2, verse 12, and 3, verse 12, and elsewhere; Micah 6, verse 1). And along with the prophets he went himself to those who had turned away from him, ready to have his conduct examined, stooping to hold a discussion with them, and drawing those who were deaf to every appeal into an argument with himself. For he says, “O my people, what have I done to you, and how have I wearied you? Answer me” (Micah 6, verse 3).

After all this we killed the prophets, we stoned them, we did them countless other cruel wrongs. What then? In their place he no longer sent prophets, or angels, or patriarchs, but the Son himself. He too was killed when he came, and yet not even then did God quench his love. He kindled it all the more, and he keeps on pleading with us, even after his own Son was killed, and begging us, and doing everything to turn us to himself. And Paul cries aloud, saying, “Now then we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were pleading with you through us: be reconciled to God” (Second Corinthians 5, verse 20). None of these things reconciled us. Yet even then he did not leave us, but keeps on both threatening hell and promising a kingdom, so that even in this way he may draw us to himself. But we remain unfeeling. [ac]

What could be worse than this dullness, fit for animals without reason? If a man had done these things for us, would we not many times over have let ourselves become his slaves? But when God does them, we turn away from him! What listlessness! What lack of feeling! We live continually in sins and wickedness, and if we happen to do some small good, how stingily we demand payment for it, like unfeeling household servants, and how particular we are about the reward, if what we have done has any reward coming to it. And yet the reward is greater if you do it with no hope of reward. Indeed, talking this way and keeping an exact account is the language of a hired hand rather than of a household servant with a willing heart. We ought to do everything for Christ’s sake — not for the reward, but for him. This too is why he threatened hell and promised the kingdom: so that he might be loved by us. So let us love him as we ought to love him. For this is the great reward; this is kingship and pleasure; this is enjoyment and glory and honor; this is light; this is the great happiness, which no words can set before us and no mind can conceive.

Yet I do not know how I was carried so far in this way of speaking, and came to be urging people who do not even think lightly of power and glory here for Christ’s sake to think lightly of the kingdom. Still, those great and noble men did reach this measure of love. Hear, for instance, how Peter burns with love for him, putting him ahead of his own soul and life and everything. And when he had denied him, it was not the punishment he grieved over, but that he had denied the one he longed for; and this was more bitter to him than any punishment. And he showed all this before the grace of the Spirit was given. He kept pressing the question, “Where are you going?” (John 13, verse 36).

And before this he said, “To whom shall we go?” (John 6, verse 68); and again, “I will follow you wherever you go” (Luke 22, verse 33). So Christ was everything to them, and they took no account of heaven, or of the kingdom of heaven, compared with the one they longed for. What Peter means is: “You are all these things to me.” And why are you amazed that Peter felt this way? Hear now what the prophet says: “What do I have in heaven, and what is there on earth that I should desire in comparison with you?” (Psalm 73, verse 25). [ad]

What he means is roughly this: “Of the things above and the things below, I desire nothing but you alone.” This is ardent desire; this is love. If we can love like this, we will count as nothing, compared with the charm of that love, not only the things of the present but even the things to come; and even here we will enjoy the kingdom, delighting ourselves in his love. Someone may say: “And how is this to happen?” Let us reflect how often we insult him after countless kindnesses, and yet he stands and calls us to himself; how often we run past him, and yet he does not overlook us, but runs to us, draws us to himself, and gathers us in to himself.

If we consider these things and others like them, we will be able to kindle this longing. Suppose an ordinary man loved like this, and the one he loved was a king: would the king not feel respect for the greatness of that love? Most certainly he would. But when it is the other way around — when his beauty is beyond words, and so are the glory and the riches of the one who loves us, and our worthlessness is so great — do we not surely deserve the utmost punishment, worthless outcasts that we are, if we are treated with such exceedingly great love by one so great and wonderful and still treat his love with insolence? He needs nothing of ours, and yet even now he does not stop loving us. We badly need what is his, and for all that we do not hold fast to his love. We value money above him, and human friendship, and bodily comfort, and power, and fame, above him who values nothing more than us. For he had one Son, true-born and his only Son, and he did not spare even him for us. But we value many things above him. [ae]

Would there not, then, be good reason for hell and torment, even if it were twice or three times or many times what it is? For what will we have to say for ourselves, if we value even Satan’s orders above the laws of Christ, and are careless of our own salvation so that we can choose the works of wickedness over him who suffered everything for us? What pardon do these things deserve? What excuse do they have? Not one. So let us stop our headlong course from now on, and come to our senses again. Let us count up all these things and send up glory to him by our works — for words alone are not enough for that — so that we may also enjoy the glory that comes from him. May we all attain it by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father, with the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.