Homilies on Romans
Homily 17 — Romans 10, verses 1 to 13
Romans 10, verses 1 to 13
“Brothers and sisters, my heart’s desire and my prayer to God for them is that they may be saved.”
He is now about to rebuke them again, and more sharply than before. That is why he first does away once more with any suspicion of hatred, and takes great pains beforehand to correct any misunderstanding. He says, in effect: “Do not pay attention to the words or the accusations. Notice that it is in no hostile spirit that I say this.”
For it is not likely that the same person should want their salvation — and not only want it, but even pray for it — and at the same time hate them and turn from them in disgust. Here he calls his intense desire, and the prayer he makes, his “heart’s desire.” For what he cares so much about and prays for is not only that they be freed from punishment, but that they also be saved. And not from this alone, but from what follows as well, he shows the goodwill he has toward them. Wherever an opening lies before him, he forces his way through as far as he can, and struggles hard to find at least some shadow of an excuse for them.
But he does not manage it; the nature of the facts is too much for him.
Verse 2: “For I bear them witness,” he says, “that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge.”
Should this not, then, be a reason for pardoning them rather than for accusing them? For if it was not from human motives that they kept themselves apart, but out of zeal, they deserved to be pitied rather than punished. But notice how skillfully he favors them in his choice of word, and yet shows their obstinacy, so out of place at such a time.
Verse 3: “For being ignorant,” he says, “of God’s righteousness.”
Again, the word would lead to pardon. But what follows leads to a heavier accusation, one that does away with any kind of defense.
“And seeking to establish their own righteousness,” he says, “they have not submitted themselves to the righteousness of God.”
He says these things to show that they went wrong out of willfulness and love of power rather than out of ignorance, and that they did not establish even this righteousness that comes from the works of the law (Matthew 21, verse 38; John 12, verses 19 and 42). For the words “seeking to establish” are just what one would say to show this. He has not stated it in plain words — he has not said that they fell short of both kinds of righteousness — but he has hinted at it very judiciously, with the wisdom so fitting for him. For if they are still “seeking” to establish that righteousness, it is quite plain that they have not yet established it. And if they have not submitted themselves to this one, they have fallen short of that one also.
He calls it “their own righteousness” either because the law was no longer in force, or because it was a righteousness of trouble and toil. But the other he calls God’s righteousness, the one that comes from faith, because it comes entirely from the grace above, and because in this case people are counted righteous not by their labors but by the gift of God. But they, who were always resisting the Holy Spirit and stubbornly trying to be counted righteous by the law, did not come over to the faith.
And since they did not come over to the faith, or receive the righteousness that comes from it, and could not be counted righteous by the law either, they were left without any resource at all.
Verse 4: “For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes.”
See Paul’s good judgment. He had spoken of one righteousness and of another. So he was concerned that those of the Jews who had believed might seem to have the one but be shut out from the other, and be accused of lawlessness — for there was no less reason to be anxious about these, since they had only newly come in. He was concerned too that the Jews might still expect to achieve it, and say: “Even if we have not fulfilled it yet, we will certainly fulfill it.” See what ground he takes. He shows that there is only one righteousness, and that it reaches its full end in this one; and that whoever has taken hold of this one, the righteousness by faith, has fulfilled that one also. But whoever rejects this one falls short of that one as well. For if Christ is “the end of the law,” then whoever does not have Christ does not have that righteousness either, even if he seems to have it.
But whoever has Christ has received the whole, even if he has not properly fulfilled the law. For the end of the physician’s art is health. Suppose, then, a man can make people well: even if he does not have the physician’s art, he has everything. But the man who does not know how to heal, though he seems to be a follower of the art, falls short of everything. So it is with the law and faith. Whoever has faith has the end of the law as well; but whoever is without faith is a stranger to both. For what was the aim of the law? To make a person righteous. But it did not have the power, for no one fulfilled it. This, then, was the end of the law. This is what it looked to all the way through, and for this all its parts were made — its feasts, its commandments, its sacrifices, and all the rest — that a person might be counted righteous.
But Christ brought this end to a fuller completion through faith. He says, in effect: “Do not be afraid, then, as though you were breaking the law by coming over to the faith. You break it when, for the law’s sake, you do not believe Christ. If you believe in him, you have fulfilled the law also, and far more than it commanded. For you have received a far greater righteousness.” Next, since this was an assertion, he again brings proof of it from the Scriptures.
Verse 5: “For Moses,” he says, “describes the righteousness that comes from the law.”
What he means is this. Moses shows us the righteousness that comes from the law: what kind it is, and where it comes from. What kind is it, then, and what does it consist in? In fulfilling the commandments. “The one who does these things,” he says, “will live by them” (Leviticus 18, verse 5). And there is no other way of becoming righteous under the law except by fulfilling the whole of it. But this has not been possible for anyone, and so this righteousness has failed them.
But tell us, Paul, about the other righteousness too, the one that comes from grace. What is it, and what does it consist in? Listen to the words in which he gives a clear sketch of it. Having refuted the first, he goes on next to this one, and says:
Verses 6 to 9: “But the righteousness that comes from faith speaks in this way: Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will go up into heaven?’ (that is, to bring Christ down from above), or, ‘Who will go down into the deep?’ (that is, to bring Christ up again from the dead). But what does it say? ‘The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart’ — that is, the word of faith that we preach: that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
Then, so that the Jews could not say, “How could those who did not find the lesser righteousness find the greater?” he gives a reason there was no answering: that this way is easier than that one. For that one requires the fulfilling of everything — for when you have done everything, then you will live. But the righteousness that comes from faith does not say this. What does it say? “If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised him from the dead, you will be saved.”
Then again, so that we would not seem to be making it contemptible by showing it to be easy and cheap, notice how he enlarges on it. He does not come at once to the words just quoted. What does he say instead? “But the righteousness that comes from faith speaks in this way: Do not say in your heart, ‘Who will go up into heaven?’ (that is, to bring Christ down), or, ‘Who will go down into the deep?’ (that is, to bring Christ up again from the dead).”
For just as virtue shown in works meets an opposing listlessness that slackens our labors, and it takes a very wakeful soul not to give in to it, so too, when a person is required to believe, there are reasonings that confuse and wreck the minds of most people, and it takes a soul of some vigor to shake them off completely. That is exactly why he sets the same thing before us here.
He does here what he did in Abraham’s case. There, having shown that Abraham was counted righteous by faith, he did not want him to seem to have won so great a crown by mere chance, as though it were a thing of no account. So, to exalt the nature of faith, he says: “Who against hope believed in hope, that he might become the father of many nations. And not being weak in faith, he considered his own body, already dead, and the deadness of Sarah’s womb. He did not waver at the promise of God through unbelief, but was strong in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully persuaded that what he had promised he was able also to perform” (Romans 4, verses 18 to 21).
So there he showed that there is need of vigor, and of a lofty soul that takes in things beyond expectation and does not stumble at appearances. He does the same here too, and shows that it takes a wise mind and a great spirit, one that reaches up to heaven. And he does not say simply, “Do not say,” but, “Do not say in your heart.” That is, do not so much as think of doubting and saying to yourself, “And how can this be?”
You see that this is the chief mark of faith: to leave behind the natural course of things in this world below, to seek what is above nature, to cast out the weakness of human calculation, and so to accept everything from the power of God. The Jews, however, did not merely say this; they said that it was not possible to be counted righteous by faith at all. But he turns even what had already taken place to another account. He shows that the thing is so great that even after it has taken place it requires faith, so that he may seem to have good reason for crowning those who believe. And he uses words that are found in the Old Testament, always taking pains to keep well clear of the charge of loving novelties and of opposing the Old Testament.
For what he says here of faith, Moses says to them of the commandment, so showing that they had received a great benefit at God’s hand. His meaning is: there is no need to say that one must go up to heaven, or cross a great sea, and then receive the commandments; God has made such great and grand things easy for us to reach. And what does the phrase mean, “The word is near you”? That it is easy. For your salvation is in your mind and on your tongue. There is no long journey to make, no seas to sail over, no mountains to cross, in order to be saved. If you do not care to cross so much as your own doorstep, you can be saved even while you sit at home. For “in your mouth and in your heart” is the source of salvation.
Then on another score also he makes the word of faith easy, and says, “God raised him from the dead.” Just think about the worthiness of the one who did it, and you will no longer see any difficulty in the thing. That he is Lord, then, is plain from the resurrection. And he said this at the very beginning of the letter: “Who was declared to be the Son of God with power … by the resurrection from the dead” (Romans 1, verse 4). And that the resurrection is easy too has been shown, even to those who are very unbelieving, from the might of the one who brought it about.
Since, then, this righteousness is greater, and light and easy to receive, is it not a sign of the utmost contentiousness to leave what is light and easy and set about what is impossible? For they could not say that they turned it down as a burden. See, then, how he takes away all their excuse. What can be said in defense of people who choose what is burdensome and impossible to carry out, and pass by what is light and able to save them, and to give them the things the law could not give? All this can come only from a contentious spirit, one that is in rebellion against God.
For the law is burdensome, but grace is easy. However much they argue, the law does not save; grace brings its own righteousness, and the righteousness of the law as well. What plea, then, will rescue them, when they are set on fighting against grace, and cling to the law to no purpose at all? Then, since he had made a strong assertion, he again confirms it from Scripture.
Verses 11 to 13: “For the Scripture says,” he goes on, “whoever believes in him will not be put to shame. For there is no difference between the Jew and the Greek; for the same Lord over all is rich to all who call upon him. For whoever calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved.”
You see how he brings in witnesses, both to faith and to confessing it. For the words “Everyone who believes” point to faith, and the words “Whoever calls upon” point to confession.
Then again, to proclaim that the grace is for everyone, and to bring their boasting low, he briefly recalls here what he had proved at length before, showing again that there is no difference between the Jew and the uncircumcised. “For there is,” he says, “no difference between the Jew and the Greek.” And what he said about the Father when he was arguing this point, he says here about the Son. For before, in making this claim, he said, “Is he the God of the Jews only? Is he not also the God of the Gentiles? Yes, of the Gentiles also, since God is one” (Romans 3, verses 29 and 30).
So here too he says, “For the same Lord over all is rich to all.” You see how he presents him as longing intensely for our salvation, since he even counts it riches for himself. So they are not to despair even now, or imagine that they could not be forgiven if they would only repent. For he who counts it riches for himself to save us will not stop being rich.
And this too is riches: that the gift is poured out on everyone. What grieved them most was that they, who had enjoyed a privilege above the whole world, should now through the faith be brought down from those thrones and be no better off than others. So he constantly brings in the prophets foretelling that the others would have equal honor with them. “For whoever,” he says, “believes in him will not be put to shame” (Isaiah 28, verse 16); and, “Whoever calls upon the name of the Lord will be saved” (Joel 2, verse 32). And the word “whoever” is put in every case, so that they could make no reply.
But there is nothing worse than empty glory. For it was this, this above all, that ruined them. That is why Christ also said to them, “How can you believe, when you receive glory from one another, and do not seek the glory that comes from the only God?” (John 5, verse 44).
Along with ruin, this passion also exposes people to great ridicule, and even before the punishment in the other world it involves them in countless troubles in this one. If you like, so that you may learn this clearly, let us leave aside for the present the heaven it shuts us out of and the hell it thrusts us into, and examine the whole matter as it stands here before us. What, then, could be more wasteful than this? What could be more disgraceful, or more offensive?
That this disease is a wasteful one is plain from those who spend with no purpose whatever on theaters, horse races, and other such pointless expenses, and from those who build fine and costly houses and fit out everything with useless extravagance — things I must not go into in this sermon. And anyone can see that a person diseased in this way is bound to be extravagant, lavish, grasping, and greedy. For to have food to give the beast, he thrusts his hand into other people’s property.
And why do I speak of property? It is not money only but souls as well that this fire devours, and it works death not only here but hereafter too. For empty glory is the mother of hell; it makes that fire burn fiercely, and the venomous worm. You can see that it has power even over the dead. And what could be worse than that? The other passions are put to an end by death, but this one shows its force even after death, and strives to display its nature even in the dead body.
For think of people who give orders on their deathbeds for fine monuments to be raised to them, which will use up their whole estate, and take pains to set aside in advance a vast extravagance for their funerals. In their lifetime they insult the poor who come to them for a penny and a single loaf, but when they are dead they give a rich banquet to the worm. What more extravagant slavery to this disease could anyone look for?
From this evil, too, illicit love affairs are conceived. For there are many who have been drawn even into adultery, not by a woman’s beauty, nor by the desire to sleep with her, but by the wish to boast, “I have made a conquest of such-and-such a woman.” And why should I mention the other evils that spring from it?
I would rather be the slave of ten thousand savages for a long time than the slave of empty glory once. For even they do not lay such commands on their captives as this vice lays on its devotees. For it says: “Be everyone’s slave, whether he is nobler than you or lower. Despise your soul, neglect virtue, laugh at freedom, sacrifice your salvation. And if you do anything good, do not do it to please God, but to show it off to the crowd, so that for these things you may lose even your crown. And if you give alms, or if you fast, go through the pains, but make sure you lose the gain.”
What could be crueler than these commands? From this comes the reign of envy, from this arrogance, from this greed, the mother of evils. For the swarm of household servants, the Black slaves dressed in gold, the hangers-on, the flatterers, the carriages plated with silver, and the other absurdities greater still — none of these are kept for any pleasure or any need, but simply for empty glory.
“Yes, anyone can see that this affliction is an evil. But how we are to keep completely clear of it — that is what you should tell us.” Well, then: in the first place, if you convince yourself that this disease is a deadly one, you will have made a very good beginning toward correcting it. For when a person is sick, he quickly sends for the physician, once he has first been made aware that he is sick.
But if you are looking for yet another way to escape from it, look to God continually, and be content with the glory that comes from him. And if you find the passion tickling you and stirring you to tell your good deeds to your fellow servants, remind yourself that after telling them you gain nothing. Quench the absurd desire, and say to your soul, “Look, for so long you have been bursting to tell your good deeds. You did not have the courage to keep them to yourself, but blurted them out to everyone. What good have you gotten from this? None at all — only the utmost loss, and the emptying out of everything that had been gathered with much labor.”
And besides this, consider something else as well: the opinion of most people is warped, and not only warped, but it withers away so quickly. Suppose they do admire you for the moment; when the occasion has passed they will have forgotten it all. They will have taken from you the crown God had given, and will have been unable to secure for you the one that comes from themselves. And yet even if this one lasted, it would be a most miserable thing to exchange that crown for this one. But when even this one is gone, what defense will we be able to make for betraying the lasting crown for the sake of the passing one, and losing such blessings for the sake of a good name with a few?
And indeed, even if those who praise were many, we would be pitiable for that very reason, and the more so the more of them there were. And if what I have said surprises you, hear Christ giving his sentence to this effect: “Woe to you, when all people speak well of you” (Luke 6, verse 26).
And so it would seem to be. In every craft you look to the craftsmen in it to be its judges. How is it, then, that you trust the testing of virtue to the crowd, and not above all to him who knows it more surely than anyone, and is best able to applaud it and to crown it? So let us write this saying on our walls, on our doors, and on our minds, and let us keep saying to ourselves, “Woe to us when all people speak well of us.”
For even those who speak well of a person run him down afterward as someone full of empty glory, hungry for honor, and greedy for their good word. But God does not do this. When he sees you longing for the glory that comes from him, then he will praise you most, and respect you, and proclaim you the victor. Man does not do this. When he finds you a slave instead of free, he gratifies you again and again with bare words and false praise, and so he snatches from you your true reward and makes you more of a menial than a slave bought with money. For bought slaves obey their masters when they are given orders, but you make yourself a slave even without orders. You do not even wait to hear anything from them. If you merely know how you can please them, you do it all without being commanded. What hell, then, would we not deserve, when we give pleasure to the wicked and hurry to serve them before they give any orders, while we will not listen to God, even though every day he commands us and urges us?
And yet, if you long for glory and praise, avoid the praise that comes from men, and then you will attain to glory. Turn away from flattering speeches, and then you will win praises without number, both from God and from men. For there is no one we usually give so much glory to as the man who looks down on glory, and no one we praise and respect so much as the man who thinks nothing of being respected and praised. And if we do this, much more will the God of the universe. And when he glorifies you and praises you, what man could more justly be called blessed?
For the difference between glory and disgrace is not as great as the difference between the glory from above and the glory of men. Or rather, it is much greater — yes, infinitely greater. For if human glory, even taken by itself with nothing set beside it, is a mean and ugly thing, just think how mean it will be found to be when we examine it side by side with the other! As a prostitute stands in her place and hires herself out to anyone, so it is with those who are slaves of empty glory. Or rather, they are more shameful than she is. For women of that kind often treat their lovers with scorn.
But you prostitute yourself to everybody — to runaway slaves, to thieves, to pickpockets (for it is of these, and people like these, that the theaters that applaud you are made up). Those whom you think worth nothing one by one, you honor more than your own salvation when they are gathered in a crowd, and you show yourself less worthy of honor than any of them. For how can you be anything but less worthy, when you need the good word of others and think you are not enough by yourself unless you receive the glory that comes from others?
And besides what I have said, do you not see, I ask you, that because you are in the public eye and known to everybody, if you commit a fault you will have accusers without number? But if you were unknown, you would be left in peace.
Someone may say: “Yes, but then if I do well, I will have admirers without number.” Now this is the fearful thing: it is not only when you sin, but even when you do right, that the disease of empty glory does you harm. In the first case it overturns thousands; in the second it robs you of your whole reward.
It is a sad thing, then, and full of every kind of disgrace, to be in love with glory even in the affairs of this life. But when you are in the same state even in spiritual things, what excuse is left to you? You are not willing to give God even as much honor as you yourself get from your servants. For even the slave “looks to the eyes of his master” (Psalm 123, verse 2), and the hired hand looks to his employer, who is to pay him his wages, and the disciple to his teacher. But you do just the opposite. You have left God, who hired you, who is your Master, and you look to your fellow servants. And you do this knowing that God remembers your good deeds even after this life, but man only for the present. You have spectators gathered in heaven, and you are collecting spectators on earth. Where the wrestler struggles, there he wants to be honored; but you, while your wrestling is up above, are anxious to win yourself a crown down below. What could be worse than madness like this?
But let us look at the crowns too, if you think it right. One is woven by arrogance, a second by envy of someone else, a third by hypocrisy and flattery, another again by wealth, and another by slavish fawning. Children at their play put crowns of grass on one another, and often laugh behind his back at the one who has been crowned. In the same way now, those who heap their praises on you often joke among themselves about putting the grass on us. And I wish it were only grass! But as it is, the crown is loaded with much harm, and it ruins all our good deeds.
So consider how worthless it is, and run from the damage it brings. For how many people would you have to praise you? A hundred? Or twice, three times, four times as many? Or rather, if you like, make it ten times or twenty times as many, and let there be two thousand or four thousand, or, if you want, even ten thousand applauding you. Still they are no better than so many jackdaws cawing overhead. Or rather, when you think of the gathering of the angels, these will seem more worthless even than worms, and their good word no more solid than a cobweb, or smoke, or a dream. Listen, then, to how Paul, who saw right through these things, is so far from seeking them that he even prays against them, in the words, “But far be it from me to glory, except in the cross of Christ” (Galatians 6, verse 14).
Be eager for this glory yourself, so that you may not provoke the Master. For when you do the other, you are insulting God, and not only yourself. If you were a painter and had a pupil, and he did not trouble to show you his work at the art, but put his painting on public display for anybody who happened to look at it, you would not take it quietly. But if this would be an insult even among fellow servants, how much more when it is done to the Master!
But if you want to learn to scorn this thing on other grounds as well, be high-minded, laugh at appearances, increase your love of the real glory, be filled with a spiritual frame of mind. Say to your soul, as Paul did, “Do you not know that we will judge angels?” (First Corinthians 6, verse 3). And when you have roused it with this, go on to rebuke it and say, “You who judge the angels, will you let yourself be judged by the scum of the world, and be praised along with dancers and mime actors, gladiators and charioteers?” For these are the men who chase after applause of this sort.
But lift your wing high above their din, and imitate that citizen of the wilderness, John. Learn how he was above caring for the crowd and did not turn to look at flatterers. When he saw all the people of Palestine pouring out around him, wondering at him and astonished at him, he was not puffed up by honor like this. Instead he rose up against them, and speaking to that great throng as if to a single boy, he rebuked them and said, “You serpents, you brood of vipers!” (Matthew 3, verse 7). Yet it was for him that they had run together and left the cities, to see that holy man, and still none of these things unnerved him. For he was far above glory and free from all empty glory.
So too Stephen, when he saw the same people again — not honoring him, but raging against him and gnashing their teeth — rose above their fury and said, “You stiff-necked people, uncircumcised in heart!” (Acts 7, verse 51).
So too Elijah, when those armies were there, and the king, and all the people, said, “How long will you limp on both your hips?” (First Kings 18, verse 21). But we flatter everyone and court everyone, buying their honor with this slavish fawning. That is why everything is turned upside down. For the sake of this favor the cause of Christianity is betrayed, and everything is neglected for the opinion of the crowd.
So let us banish this passion, and then we will understand rightly what freedom is, and the harbor, and the calm. For the man in love with empty glory is always like people in a storm: trembling, afraid, serving a thousand masters. But the one who is free of this slavery is like people in a harbor, enjoying a freedom that nothing spoils. The other man is not so. As many acquaintances as he has, so many masters he has, and he is forced to be a slave to all of them.
How, then, are we to get free of this hard slavery? By falling in love with another glory, one that is truly glory. For with people who are in love with someone, the sight of someone more beautiful, once seen, draws them away from the first. In the same way, with those who court the glory that comes from us humans, the glory from heaven, if it shines on them, has the power to draw them away from this one. So let us look to that glory and come to know it thoroughly, so that, admiring its beauty, we may run from the ugliness of the other and have the benefit of great pleasure by enjoying that glory always. 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, together with the Holy Spirit, forever and ever. Amen.