Homily 10 — Romans 5, verse 12, to 6, verse 4

“Therefore, as by one man sin entered into the world, and death by sin, and so death passed upon all men, because all have sinned.” [a]

The best physicians always take great pains to discover the source of a disease, and go to the very fountain of the trouble. The blessed Paul does the same. So after saying that we were counted righteous, and showing it from the patriarch, from the Spirit, and from Christ’s dying (for he would not have died unless he meant to count us righteous), he next confirms from other sources as well what he had proved at such length. And he confirms his point from its opposites, that is, from death and sin.

How, and in what way? He asks where death came in from, and how it gained the upper hand. How, then, did death come in and prevail? “Through the sin of one.” But what does “because all have sinned” mean? This: once he had fallen, even those who had not eaten from the tree all became mortal because of him.

Verse 13: “For until the law sin was in the world, but sin is not counted where there is no law.”

Some think he used the phrase “until the law” of the time before the law was given — the time of Abel, for instance, or of Noah, or of Abraham — until Moses was born. What, on this view, was the sin in those days? Some say he means the sin in paradise. For it had not yet been done away with, he would be saying, but its fruit was still in full force; it had borne that death which all of us share, which prevailed and lorded it over us. Why, then, does he go on, “But sin is not counted where there is no law”? Those who have written on our side say that he set down this point as an objection coming from the Jews: if there is no sin without the law, how did death consume all those who lived before the law? [b]

But to me the sense I am about to give seems to have more to be said for it, and to suit the apostle’s meaning better. What sense is that? When he says that “until the law sin was in the world,” he seems to me to mean this: after the law was given, the sin that came from breaking it prevailed, and it prevailed for as long as the law existed. For sin, he says, cannot exist if there is no law. So if it was this sin — the breaking of the law — that brought forth death, he means, how was it that everyone before the law died? For if death has its origin in sin, but where there is no law sin is not counted, how did death prevail? From this it is clear that it was not this sin — the breaking of the law, I mean — but the sin of Adam’s disobedience that ruined everything. And what is the proof of this? The fact that even before the law everyone died. For “death reigned,” he says, “from Adam to Moses, even over those who had not sinned.”

How did it reign? “After the likeness of Adam’s transgression, who is the figure of him who was to come.” Now this is why Adam is a type of Christ. Someone will ask: “How is he a type?” In this way. Adam became, to those descended from him, the cause of the death that his eating brought in, even though they had not eaten from the tree. In the same way Christ became, to those descended from him, the provider of righteousness, even though they had not done righteous deeds — the righteousness which he freely gave to us all through his cross. That is why at every turn he holds on to the “one,” and keeps bringing it before us, when he says, “As by one man sin entered into the world”; and, “If through the offense of one many are dead”; and, “The gift is not as it was by one who sinned”; and, “The judgment was by one to condemnation”; and again, “If by one man’s offense death reigned by one”; and, “Therefore as by the offense of one”; and again, “As by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners.” He does not let go of the one, so that when a Jew says to you, “How could the world be saved by the good deed of this one person, Christ?” you might be able to say to him, “How could it be condemned by the disobedience of this one person, Adam?” [c]

And yet sin and grace are not equals, death and life are not equals, the devil and God are not equals; there is a boundless distance between them. So when the advantage and the victory lie on this side — from the nature of the thing itself, from the power of the one who does it, and from its very fittingness (for it suits God far better to save than to punish) — tell me, what single word have you to say in defense of unbelief?

However, he shows in the following words that what had been done was reasonable.

Verse 15: “But the free gift is not like the offense. For if through the offense of one many are dead, much more has the grace of God, and the gift by grace, which is by one man, Jesus Christ, abounded to the many.”

What he is saying is something like this. If sin had such far-reaching effects — and the sin of one man at that — how can grace, and the grace of God, not of the Father only but of the Son as well, fail to be the more abundant of the two? That is by far the more reasonable supposition. For that one man should be punished on account of another does not seem very reasonable. But that one should be saved on account of another is both more fitting and more reasonable. So if the first took place, much more may the second. From these grounds, then, he has shown that it is likely and reasonable; for once the first had been established, the second would readily be granted. But that it is even necessarily so, he establishes from what follows. How, then, does he establish it?

Verse 16: “And the gift is not as it was by one who sinned. For the judgment was by one to condemnation, but the free gift came out of many offenses, to our being counted righteous.” [d]

What is he speaking of here? That sin had the power to bring in death and condemnation, but grace did not do away with that one sin only, but also with the sins that followed in its train. So that the words “as” and “so” might not seem to make the measure of the blessings and of the evils equal, and so that you might not think, when you hear of Adam, that only the sin he had brought in was done away with, he says that the pardon came out of many offenses. How is this plain? Because after the countless sins committed after the one in paradise, the matter ended in our being counted righteous. And where righteousness is, life necessarily follows in every way, and countless blessings with it, just as death followed where sin was. For righteousness is more than life, since it is the very root of life. That many good things were brought in, and that it was not only that sin that was taken away but all the rest along with it, he points out when he says that “the gift came out of many offenses, to our being counted righteous.” And in this a proof is necessarily included that death too was torn up by the roots.

But since he had said that the second was greater than the first, he has to give further grounds for this very point. Before, he had said that if one man’s sin killed everyone, much more will the grace of One have power to save. After that he shows that it was not only that sin that grace did away with, but all the rest too; and not only that the sins were done away with, but that righteousness was given. And Christ did not merely do as much good as Adam did harm, but far more and greater good. Since, then, he had made such claims, here too he wants to confirm them further. And how does he confirm them? He says, in verse 17: “For if by one man’s offense death reigned by one, much more will those who receive abundance of grace and of the gift and of righteousness reign in life by one, Jesus Christ.”

What he is saying comes to about this. What armed death against the world? Only one man’s eating from the tree. So if death gained such great power from one offense, when certain people are found to have received a grace and a righteousness out of all proportion to that sin, how will they still be liable to death? That is why he does not say “grace” here, but “superabundance of grace.” For we did not receive only as much of his grace as we needed to do away with the sin, but far more. We were at once freed from punishment, and put off all wrongdoing. We were born again from above (John 3, verse 3), and rose again with the old self buried. We were redeemed, counted righteous, brought up to adoption, made holy, made brothers of the only Son, and joint heirs and of one body with him, and counted as his flesh; and as a body is joined to its head, so were we united to him! [e]

All these things Paul calls a “superabundance” of grace, showing that what we received was not only a medicine to counter the wound, but health as well, and beauty, and honor, and glory, and dignities far beyond our natural state. Each of these by itself was enough to do away with death. But when all of them plainly run together into one, not the slightest trace of death is left, nor can even a shadow of it be seen, so completely has it been done away.

Suppose someone threw a man who owed ten obols into prison — and not the man himself only, but his wife and children and servants because of him. And suppose someone else came and not only paid the ten obols, but also gave him ten thousand talents of gold, led the prisoner into the king’s courts and to the throne of the highest power, and made him a sharer in the highest honor and every kind of splendor. The creditor would not be able even to remember the ten obols. That is how it has been with us. For Christ has paid far more than we owe — as much more as the boundless ocean is than a little drop.

So do not hesitate, my friend, when you see so great a store of blessings, and do not ask how that mere spark of death and sin was put out, when such a sea of gifts was poured in upon it. For this is what Paul was pointing to when he said that “those who have received the abundance of grace and righteousness will reign in life.” And now that he had clearly proved this, he again uses his earlier argument, clinching it by taking up the same word afresh and saying that if all were punished for that offense, then they may also be counted righteous by these means.

And so he says, in verse 18: “Therefore, as by the offense of one judgment came upon all men to condemnation, even so by the righteousness of one the free gift came upon all men, to their being counted righteous, which brings life.” [g]

And he presses the point again, saying, in verse 19: “For as by one man’s disobedience many were made sinners, so by the obedience of one many will be made righteous.”

What he says does seem to raise no small question. But if anyone pays careful attention to it, this too will admit of an easy solution. What, then, is the question? It is the saying that through the offense of one many were made sinners. That when Adam had sinned and become mortal, those descended from him should be mortal too is nothing unlikely. But how would it follow that from his disobedience someone else would become a sinner? At that rate a person of this sort would not even deserve punishment, since it was not by his own act that he became a sinner.

What, then, does the word “sinners” mean here? To me it seems to mean liable to punishment and condemned to death. Now, he had shown clearly and at length that by Adam’s death we all became mortal. But the question now is: for what purpose was this done? This he does not go on to add, for it contributed nothing to his present aim. His contest is with a Jew, who doubted and scoffed at righteousness coming through one. For this reason, after showing that the punishment too was brought upon all by one, he has not added why this was so. He does not go in for what is superfluous, but keeps only to what is necessary. The rules of debate did not oblige him to say any more than the Jew did, and so he leaves it unsolved.

But if any of you were to ask with a wish to learn, we would give this answer. We are so far from being harmed by this death and condemnation, if we are self-controlled, that we even gain by having become mortal. First, because it is not in an immortal body that we sin. Second, because we get countless grounds for philosophy. For to be modest, to be self-controlled, to be humbled, and to keep ourselves clear of all wickedness — this is what death persuades us to, by its presence and by our expecting it. And along with these, or rather even before them, it has brought in other, greater blessings besides. For it is from this that the crowns of the martyrs come, and the rewards of the apostles. This is how Abel was counted righteous; this is how Abraham was, in slaying his son; this is how John was, who was put to death for Christ’s sake; this is how the three young men were, and Daniel. For if we are so minded, not death only, but even the devil himself will be unable to hurt us.

And besides, there is this to be said as well: immortality awaits us, and after being disciplined for a little while, we will enjoy the blessings to come without fear. In the present life we are in a kind of school, being taught by sickness, distress, trials, poverty and the other things that seem to be evils, so that we may become fit to receive the blessings of the world to come.

Verse 20: “Moreover the law came in, so that the offense might abound.” [i]

He had shown that the world was condemned from Adam, but was saved by Christ and freed from condemnation. Now he takes up the discussion of the law at the right moment, here again pulling down the high opinion people had of it. It was so far from doing any good, he means, or being of any help, that the disorder only increased once it had come in. But the words “so that,” again, do not state the cause, but the result. The purpose for which it was given was not “so that” the offense might abound; it was given to lessen and destroy the offense. But it turned out the opposite way — not because of the nature of the law, but because of the carelessness of those who received it.

But why did he not say “the law was given,” but “the law came in by the way”? To show that the need for it was for a time, and not absolute or binding. He says this to the Galatians too, showing the very same thing another way: “For before faith came,” he says, “we were kept under the law, shut up to the faith that was afterward to be revealed.” So it was not for its own sake but for another’s that it kept the flock. The Jews were rather dull-minded and soft, and indifferent to the gifts themselves; that is why the law was given — to convict them all the more, to teach them clearly their own condition, and, by increasing the charge against them, to hold them back all the more. But do not be afraid. This was not done so that the punishment might be greater, but so that the grace might be seen to be greater. That is why he goes on: “But where sin abounded, grace abounded much more.”

He does not say “abounded,” but “abounded much more.” For he gave us not only release from punishment, but release from sins as well, and life too. It is as if someone were not merely to free a man with a fever from his illness, but to give him beauty besides, and strength, and rank; or were not only to give food to a hungry man, but to put him in possession of great riches and set him in the highest authority.

Some will say: “And how did sin abound?” The law gave countless commands. Since they broke them all, transgression became more abundant. Do you see how great a difference there is between grace and the law? The one became an addition to the condemnation, the other a further abundance of gifts. Having mentioned this generosity beyond words, he again takes up the beginning and root both of death and of life. What, then, is the root of death? Sin. That is why he also says, in verse 21: “So that as sin reigned to death, even so grace might reign through righteousness to eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord.”

He says this to show that sin holds the rank of a king, and death that of a soldier, drawn up under sin and armed by it. So if sin armed death, it is plain enough that the righteousness which destroys sin, brought in by grace, not only disarms death but even destroys it, and undoes its rule entirely. For righteousness is the greater of the two, since it was brought in not by a man and the devil but by God and grace, and it leads our life on to a better state and to blessings without limit. There will never be any end of it — to let you see its superiority from this too. The other cast us out of our present life; but grace, when it came, gave us not the present life, but the immortal and eternal one. And for all these things Christ is our guarantor. So do not doubt about your life if you have righteousness; for righteousness is greater than life, since it is life’s mother.

Chapter 6, verse 1: “What then? Shall we continue in sin, so that grace may abound?”

“Far from it!” [j]

He is turning again to exhortation. Yet he does not bring it in directly, so as not to seem tiresome and irritating to many, but as though it grew out of the teaching. For if, even while varying his address like this, he was afraid they would take offense at what he said, and so said, “I have written to you rather boldly in some points” (Romans 15, verse 15), much more would he have seemed too harsh to them if he had not done so.

He had shown the greatness of grace by the greatness of the sins it healed, and because of this, in the eyes of the unthinking, it seemed to be an encouragement to sin. (“If the reason greater grace was shown,” they would say, “is that we had committed great sins, let us not stop sinning, so that grace may be displayed still more.”) So that they might not say this or suspect it, see how he turns the objection back. First he does it by warding it off: “Far from it!” He usually does this with things that everyone admits to be absurd. Then he lays down an argument that cannot be answered. And what is it?

Verse 2: “How shall we,” he says, “who are dead to sin, live any longer in it?” [k]

What does “we are dead” mean? Does it mean that, as far as sin goes, we have all received the sentence of death? Or that we became dead to it by believing and being enlightened? This is what one should rather say, since what follows shows plainly that it is right. But what is becoming dead to it? Not obeying it in anything any longer. Baptism did this once for all: it made us dead to sin. But from then on this must be kept up continually by our own effort, so that, though sin issues countless commands to us, we never obey it again, but stay unmoved, as a dead man does. And indeed elsewhere he says that sin itself is dead; but there he sets it down because he wants to show that virtue is easy (Romans 7, verse 8).

But here, since he is eager to rouse the hearer, he puts the death on the hearer’s side. Next, since what he had said was obscure, he explains it again, using what he had said as a reproof as well.

Verses 3 and 4: “Do you not know,” he says, “my brothers and sisters, that as many of us as were baptized into Christ were baptized into his death? Therefore we are buried with him by baptism into death.” [l]

What does being “baptized into his death” mean? That it is with a view to our dying as he did. For baptism is the cross. What the cross and burial were to Christ, baptism has been to us, even if not in the same respects. He himself died and was buried in the flesh; we have done both to sin. That is why he does not say “planted together in his death,” but “in the likeness of his death.” For both the one and the other is a death, but not of the same thing: the one is of the flesh, Christ’s; the other of sin, which is ours. So as that death is real, so is this one.

But if it is real, then our own part must in turn be contributed. And so he goes on: “So that as Christ was raised up from the dead by the glory of the Father, even so we also should walk in newness of life.”

Here, along with the duty of walking carefully, he hints at the subject of the resurrection. How? Do you believe, he means, that Christ died and that he was raised again? Then believe the same of yourself. For this is like that, since both the cross and the burial are yours. And if you have shared in his death and burial, much more will you share in his resurrection and life. Now that the greater thing has been done away with — sin, I mean — it is not right to doubt any longer about the lesser, the doing away of death. [m]

But for the present he leaves this for the consciences of his hearers to reason out. He himself, having set before us the resurrection to come, demands of us another one: the new way of life, which is brought about in this present life by a change of habits. So when the sexually immoral man becomes chaste, the greedy man merciful, the harsh man tamed, a resurrection has taken place even here, the prelude to the other one. And how is it a resurrection? Why, because sin has been put to death and righteousness has risen again; the old life has been made to vanish, and this new, angelic life is being lived. But when you hear of a new life, look for a great transformation, a sweeping change.

But tears come to my eyes, and I groan deeply, when I think how great a philosophy Paul requires of us, and to what listlessness we have given ourselves up. After our baptism we go back to the old condition we were in before. We return to Egypt, and remember the garlic after the manna (Numbers 11, verse 5). For ten or twenty days, at the very time of our illumination, we undergo a change, and then we take up our former ways again. But it is not for a set number of days but for our whole life that Paul requires such a way of life of us. Yet we go back to our former vomit, and so, after the youth that grace gave us, we build up an old age of sins. For the love of money, or slavery to improper desires, or any other sin whatever, is apt to make the one who commits it old. “And what is decaying and growing old is ready to vanish away” (Hebrews 8, verse 13).

For there is no body — there surely is none — to be seen so paralyzed by long years as a soul decayed and tottering with many sins. Such a soul is carried on to the last stage of senility. It utters indistinct sounds, like men who are very old and have lost their wits. It is overloaded with phlegm, with great distortion of mind, and with forgetfulness; it has scales over its eyes; it is repulsive to people and an easy prey for the devil. [q]

Such, then, are the souls of sinners. Not so the souls of the righteous: they are youthful and good-looking, in the very prime of life all the way through, always ready for any fight or struggle. But the souls of sinners, if they receive even a small shock, at once fall and are ruined. This is what the prophet made plain when he said that, like the chaff which the wind scatters from the face of the earth (Psalm 1, verse 4), so those who live in sin are whirled this way and that and exposed to every sort of harm. For they do not see like a healthy person, or hear clearly, or speak distinctly; they are oppressed with great shortness of breath. Their mouths overflow with spittle. And I wish it were only spittle and nothing offensive! But as it is, they send out words that stink worse than any mire. And what is worst, they do not even have the strength to spit this saliva of words away from them. Instead, with great obscenity, they take it in their hand and smear it back on again, so that it clots and becomes hard to sweat through. Perhaps you are sickened by this description. Then ought you not to be more sickened by the reality? For if these things are disgusting when they happen in the body, much more are they when they happen in the soul.

Such was that son who squandered his whole share and was brought down to the depths of wretchedness, weaker than any feeble-minded or deranged person. But when he was willing, he suddenly became young again, by his decision and his change alone. For as soon as he had said, “I will return to my father,” this one word brought him every blessing — or rather, not the bare word, but the deed he added to the word. For he did not say, “Let me go back,” and then stay where he was. He said, “Let me go back,” and he went back, and traveled that whole road home.

So let us do the same. Even if we have been carried beyond the boundary, let us go back up to our Father’s house, and not linger over the length of the journey. For if we are willing, the way back is easy and very quick. Only let us leave the strange and foreign country — for that is what sin is, drawing us far away from our Father’s house. Let us leave it, then, so that we may quickly return to the house of our Father. For our Father has a natural yearning toward us, and if we change, he will honor us no less than those who were never stained, but even more, just as the father showed that son the greater honor. For he himself had the greater pleasure in receiving his son back.

But someone may say: “How am I to go back again?” Only make a beginning of the business, and the whole is done. Stop short of vice and go no further into it, and you have already laid hold of the whole. For just as with the sick, getting no worse may be the beginning of getting better, so it is with vice too. Go no further, and your wicked deeds will come to an end. If you do this for two days, you will keep off on the third day more easily; and after three days you will add ten, then twenty, then a hundred, then your whole life. For the further you go on, the easier you will find the way, and you will stand on the summit itself and enjoy many good things at once.

That is how it was when the prodigal came back: there were flutes and harps and dancing, feasts and gatherings. And the father, who might have called his son to account for his ill-timed extravagance and for running off so far, did nothing of the sort. He looked on him as one never stained. He could not bring himself even to use the language of reproach — or rather, even so much as to mention the past to him. Instead he threw himself on him and kissed him, killed the calf, put a robe on him, and heaped abundant honors on him.

So then, with such examples before us, let us take heart and keep from despair. For he is not so pleased with being called Master as with being called Father, nor with having a slave as with having a son. This is what he likes better than that. This, then, is why he did all that he has done, and “did not spare even his only Son” (Romans 8, verse 32): so that we might receive adoption as sons, so that we might love him not as a Master only but as a Father. And if he obtains this from us, he delights in it as one who has been given glory, and proclaims it to everyone, though he needs nothing of ours.

This is what he does everywhere in Abraham’s case, for instance, using these words: “I am the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.” And yet it was those of his household who should have counted this an honor; but as it is, it is plainly the Lord who does this. That is why he says to Peter, “Do you love me more than these?” (John 21, verse 17), to show that there is nothing he seeks from us so much as this. For this reason too he told Abraham to offer his son to him, so that he might make it known to everyone that the patriarch loved him greatly. Now this desire to be loved exceedingly comes from loving exceedingly. For this reason too he said to the apostles, “Whoever loves father or mother more than me is not worthy of me” (Matthew 10, verse 37).

For this reason he tells us to rank even what is most closely bound to us, our own soul, second to our love for him, since he wishes to be loved by us with complete wholeheartedness. For we too, if we have no strong feelings about someone, have no strong desire for his friendship either, however great and noble he may be. But when we love someone warmly and truly, even if the one we love is of low rank and humble, we count love from him a very great honor. And for this reason he himself called it glory, not only to be loved by us, but even to suffer those shameful things on our behalf (John 12, verse 23). [w]

However, those things were a glory because of love alone. But whatever we suffer for him is not for love alone; it is also for the sake of the greatness and dignity of the one we long for, so that it may with good reason both be called glory and truly be glory. So let us face dangers for him as if we were running for the greatest crowns. Let us count neither poverty, nor disease, nor insult, nor slander, nor death itself heavy and burdensome, when it is for him that we suffer these things. For if we are right-minded, we gain as much as anyone can from these things; just as, if we are not right-minded, we will gain no advantage even from their opposites. But consider: does someone insult you and make war on you?

Is he not by that very act putting you on your guard and giving you an opportunity of becoming like God? For if you love the one who plots against you, you will be like him who “makes his sun rise on the evil and the good” (Matthew 5, verse 45). Does someone else take your money away? If you bear it nobly, you will receive the same reward as those who have spent all they have on the poor. For it says, “You joyfully accepted the plundering of your goods, knowing that you have in heaven a better and lasting possession” (Hebrews 10, verse 34). Has someone reviled and abused you, whether truly or falsely? He is weaving a very great crown for you, if you bear his insults gently. For the one who slanders us also provides us with an abundant reward: “Rejoice,” it says, “and be exceedingly glad, when people say all kinds of evil against you falsely, for great is your reward in heaven” (Matthew 5, verses 12 and 11). And the one who speaks the truth against us is of the greatest service too, if only we bear gently what is said. For the Pharisee spoke evil of the tax collector, and spoke the truth; yet instead of a tax collector he made him a righteous man (Luke 18, verse 11). But why go into particular cases? Anyone who will go to the contests of Job can learn all these points precisely. And this is why Paul said, “God is for us; who is against us?” (Romans 8, verse 31). [x]

So, just as by being earnest we gain even from the things that vex us, so by being listless we do not improve even from the things that favor us. For what did Judas gain, tell me, from being with Christ? Or what profit was the law to the Jew, or paradise to Adam? Or what good did Moses do those in the wilderness? So we should let everything else go and look to one point only: how we may manage our own resources well. If we do this, not even the devil himself will ever get the better of us; rather, he will make our gain the greater, by keeping us watchful. This is how Paul rouses the Ephesians, by describing the devil’s fierceness.

Yet we sleep and snore, though we have to deal with so crafty an enemy. If we knew a snake was nestling by our bed, we would go to great lengths to kill it. But when the devil nestles in our souls, we imagine we come to no harm, and we lie at our ease. The reason is that we do not see him with the eyes of our body. Yet this is exactly why we should rouse ourselves the more and stay sober. For against an enemy one can perceive, one may easily be on guard; but one who cannot be seen we will not easily escape, unless we are always armed. All the more so because he has no thought of open combat — he would surely be defeated quickly — but often, under the appearance of friendship, he slips in the venom of his cruel malice.

That is how he won over Job’s wife, putting on the mask of natural affection, to give that reckless advice. So too, when talking with Adam, he puts on the air of one concerned for him and watching over his interests, and says that “your eyes will be opened on the day you eat of the tree” (Genesis 3, verse 5). So too he persuaded Jephthah, under the pretext of religion, to slay his daughter and to offer the sacrifice the law forbade. Do you see his tricks, his shifting ways of making war? So be on your guard. Arm yourself at every point with the weapons of the Spirit, and learn his plans precisely, so that you may both keep from being caught and easily catch him. For that is how Paul got the better of him, by knowing these precisely. That is why he says, “For we are not ignorant of his schemes” (Second Corinthians 2, verse 11).

So let us too be earnest in learning and avoiding his stratagems, so that, having won the victory over him, we may be proclaimed conquerors, whether in this present life or in the life to come, and obtain those unmixed blessings, by the grace and love for humankind of our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom and with whom be glory to the Father, together with the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.