Homilies on Romans
Homily 29 — Romans 15, verses 14 to 24
Romans 15, verses 14 to 24
“And I myself also am persuaded about you, my brothers and sisters, that you also are full of goodness, filled with all knowledge, able also to admonish one another.”
He had said, “Since I am the apostle of the Gentiles, I magnify my office” (Romans 11, verse 13). He had said, “Take care, or he will not spare you either” (Romans 11, verse 21). He had said, “Do not be wise in your own opinion” (Romans 12, verse 16); and again, “Why do you judge your brother?” (Romans 14, verse 10); and, “Who are you to judge another man’s servant?” (Romans 14, verse 4). And he had said several other things of the same kind besides. So, since he had often made his language somewhat harsh, he now speaks soothingly. What he did at the beginning, he does at the end as well. At the beginning he said, “I thank my God for you all, that your faith is spoken of throughout the whole world” (Romans 1, verse 8). But here he says, “I am persuaded that you also are full of goodness, able also to admonish others”; and this is more than the former.
He does not say, “I have heard,” but, “I am persuaded”: I have no need to hear it from others. And “I myself,” that is, I who rebuke you, I who accuse you. “That you are full of goodness”: this refers to the exhortation he had just given. It is as if he said, “It was not as though you were cruel, or haters of your brothers, that I gave you that exhortation — to receive, and not to neglect, and not to destroy ‘the work of God.’ For I know that ‘you are full of goodness.’”
But he seems to me here to be calling their virtue complete. He does not say “you have” but “you are full of.” And what follows carries the same intensity: “filled with all knowledge.” For suppose they had been affectionate, but still did not know how to treat properly those they loved. That is why he added “all knowledge.” “Able to admonish others”: not only to learn, but also to teach.
Verse 15: “Nevertheless, I have written to you the more boldly in some measure.”
Notice Paul’s humility; notice his wisdom. He made a deep cut in the earlier part, and then, once he had achieved what he wanted, he uses a great deal of kindness next. Even without what he has said, this very confession that he had been bold would have been enough to slacken their heat. He does this in writing to the Hebrews too, where he says, “But, beloved, I am persuaded of better things concerning you, things that belong to salvation, though we speak this way” (Hebrews 6, verse 9). And again to the Corinthians: “Now I praise you, brothers and sisters, that you remember me in everything, and keep the ordinances just as I handed them on to you” (First Corinthians 11, verse 2). And writing to the Galatians he says, “I have confidence in you that you will take no other view” (Galatians 5, verse 10). All through his letters you can find this practice followed again and again.
But here he does it to an even greater degree. For the Romans stood in a higher rank, and their fastidious spirit needed to be brought down, not with astringent remedies only, but with loosening ones as well. He does this in different ways. That is why here too he says, “I have written to you the more boldly”; and not satisfied even with this, he has added, “in some measure,” that is, gently. And even here he does not stop. What does he say?
“As putting you in mind.” He does not say “as teaching you,” nor even simply “putting you in mind,” but he uses a word that means putting you in mind in a quiet way.
Notice how the end falls in with the introduction. In that passage he said, “your faith is made known in all the world” (Romans 1, verse 8); so at the end of the letter too: “For your obedience has reached all” (Romans 16, verse 19). And as at the beginning he wrote, “For I long to see you, so that I may impart to you some spiritual gift, so that you may be established — that is, that I may be comforted together with you” (Romans 1, verses 11 and 12), so here too he has said, “As putting you in mind.” Both there and here he has come down from the teacher’s chair and speaks to them as brothers and friends of equal rank. And this is exactly a teacher’s duty: to give his speech the kind of variety that profits the hearers. See, then, how after saying, “I have written the more boldly,” and, “in some measure,” and, “as putting you in mind,” he was not satisfied even with these, but, making his language still more humble, he goes on:
“Because of the grace that was given to me by God.” As he said at the beginning, “I am a debtor” (Romans 1, verse 14). It is as if he had said, “I did not snatch at this honor for myself, nor was I the first to leap forward to take it. God commanded it, and commanded it by grace, not as though he had set me apart for this office because I deserved it. So do not be irritated, since it is not I who raise myself up; it is God who lays this on me.”
And as he says there, “whom I serve in the good news of his Son” (Romans 1, verse 9), so here too, after saying, “because of the grace given to me by God,” he adds, in verse 16: “That I should be the minister of Jesus Christ to the Gentiles, ministering the good news of God.”
After his abundant proof of what he has said, he raises his speech to a loftier tone. He no longer speaks of mere service, as at the beginning, but of service and priestly ministry. “For to me this preaching and proclaiming is a priesthood. This is the sacrifice I bring. And no one will find fault with a priest for being anxious to offer the sacrifice without blemish.” He says this at once to lift their thoughts and show them that they are a sacrifice, and also in defense of his own part in the matter, because he was appointed to this office. “For my knife,” he says, “is the good news, the word of preaching. And the reason is not that I may be glorified, not that I may appear conspicuous, but ‘that the offering up of the Gentiles may be acceptable, made holy by the Holy Spirit.’”
That is, “that the souls of those who are taught by me may be accepted. For it was not so much to honor me that God brought me to this height, as out of concern for you.” And how are they to become acceptable? In the Holy Spirit. For there is need not only of faith but also of a spiritual way of life, so that we may keep the Spirit that was given once for all. For it is not wood and fire, nor altar and knife, but the Spirit who is everything in us. “That is why I use every means to keep that fire from being put out, as I too have been commanded to do.”
“Why, then, do you speak to people who do not need it?” He replies: “This is exactly why I do not teach you, but put you in mind. As the priest stands by stirring up the fire, so I do, rousing your eagerness.”
And notice: he does not say, “that the offering up of you may be acceptable,” but “of the Gentiles.” When he says “of the Gentiles,” he means the whole world, the land and the whole sea. He does it to take down their haughtiness, so that they would not disdain to have as their teacher a man who was stretching himself out to the very ends of the world. As he said at the beginning, “as among the other Gentiles as well. I am a debtor both to Greeks and to barbarians, both to the wise and to the foolish” (Romans 1, verses 13 and 14).
Verse 17: “So I have reason to glory through Jesus Christ in the things that pertain to God.”
Since he had humbled himself so greatly, he raises his style again. He does this too for their sakes, so that he would not seem to become an easy object of contempt. And while he raises himself, he remembers his own proper temper and says, “So I have reason to glory.” He means: “I glory not in myself, not in our zeal, but in ‘the grace of God.’”
Verse 18: “For I will not dare to speak of any of the things that Christ has not worked through me, to make the Gentiles obedient by word and deed, through mighty signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God.” What he means is this: “No one can say that my words are an empty boast. For this priestly ministry of mine I have many signs, and many proofs of my appointment as well — not the long robe and the bells, as the priests of old had, nor the miter and the turban, but signs and wonders far more awe-inspiring than these. Nor can it be said that I was entrusted with the charge but did not carry it out. Or rather, it is not I who carried it out, but Christ. That is why it is in him that I boast, and not about ordinary things, but about spiritual ones.” This is the force of “in the things that pertain to God.” “For that I have accomplished the purpose I was sent for, and that my words are no empty boast, the miracles and the obedience of the Gentiles show.” “For I will not dare to speak of any of the things that Christ has not worked through me, to make the Gentiles obedient by word and deed, through signs and wonders, by the power of the Spirit of God.”
See how forcefully he tries to show that the whole is God’s doing and nothing is his own: “Whether I speak anything, or do anything, or work miracles, he does all of it; the Holy Spirit does it all.” And he says this to show the dignity of the Holy Spirit as well. See how these things are more wonderful and more awe-inspiring than those of old — the sacrifice, the offering, the symbols. For when he says, “by word and deed, through mighty signs and wonders,” he means this: the teaching; the philosophy that belongs to the kingdom; the display of deeds and way of life; the dead who were raised, the demons who were cast out, the blind who were healed, the lame who leaped, and the other marvelous acts — all of which the Holy Spirit worked in us.
Then the proof of these things — since all this is still only an assertion — is the multitude of the disciples. That is why he adds, “So that from Jerusalem, and all around as far as Illyricum, I have fully preached the good news of Christ.” Count up, then, cities and places and nations and peoples — not only those under the Romans, but those under barbarians too. I would not have you go only the whole way through Phoenicia and Syria, the Cilicians and the Cappadocians; reckon up the lands beyond as well: the country of the Saracens, and of the Persians and Armenians, and of the other savage nations. That is why he said “all around”: so that you would not only travel the straight highway, but would run over the whole of it in your mind, even the southern part of Asia. And just as he ran over miracles as thick as snow in a single phrase, by saying, “through mighty signs and wonders,” so again he has taken in endless cities and nations and peoples and places in this one word, “all around.”
For he was far removed from all boasting. He said this for their sakes, so that they would not be conceited about themselves. At the beginning he said, “that I might have some fruit among you also, even as among the other Gentiles.” But here he states the necessity his priesthood laid on him. Since he had spoken in a sharper tone, he also uses it to show his power more clearly. That is why there he says only, “even as among the other Gentiles,” but here he dwells on the point fully, so that their conceit may be pruned away on every side. And he does not merely say, “preached the good news,” but, “have fully preached the good news of Christ.”
Verse 20: “Yes, so I have striven to preach the good news, not where Christ was named.”
See here another mark of his preeminence. He had not only preached the good news to so many and persuaded them, but he did not even go to those who had already become disciples. So far was he from thrusting himself on other men’s disciples, and from doing it for glory’s sake, that he even made it his aim to teach those who had not heard. For he does not say, “where they had not been persuaded,” but, “where Christ was not even named,” which is more. And why had he set his heart on this? “So that I would not build,” he says, “on another man’s foundation.”
He says this to show that he has nothing to do with empty glory, and to teach them that it was not out of any love of glory, or of honor from them, that he came to write, but as fulfilling his ministry, as completing his priestly duty, as loving their salvation. He calls the foundation laid by the apostles “another man’s,” not with regard to the character of the person or the nature of the preaching, but with regard to the question of reward. It was not that the preaching belonged to another man, but that it went toward another man’s reward. The reward of other men’s labors was, for this man, another man’s. Then he shows that a prophecy was being fulfilled as well, saying, in verse 21: “As it is written, Those to whom he was not announced will see, and those who have not heard will understand” (Isaiah 52, verse 15, in the Greek Old Testament). You see, he runs to where the labor is more and the toil greater.
Verse 22: “That is also why I have been much hindered from coming to you.”
Notice again how he makes the end of the same weave as the introduction. At the very beginning of the letter he said, “Many times I have planned to come to you, but was prevented until now” (Romans 1, verse 13). But here he also gives the cause that prevented him — and it prevented him not once, but twice, yes, many times. For as he says there, “many times I planned to come to you,” so here too: “I have been much hindered from coming to you.” And that he attempted it so often proves a very strong desire.
Verse 23: “But now, having no more room in these regions.”
See how he shows that it was not out of any craving for glory from them that he both wrote and was coming. “And having had a great desire to come to you these many years,”
Verse 24: “whenever I travel to Spain, I hope to see you on my journey, and to be sent on my way there by you, if first I have been somewhat filled with your company.”
So that he would not seem to be holding them very cheap — as though he were saying, “Since I have nothing else to do, I am coming to you” — he again touches on his love by saying, “I have had a great desire these many years to come to you.” “The reason I want to come is not that I have time on my hands, but that I may bring to birth the desire I have been in labor with for so long.” Then, so that this in turn would not puff them up, consider how he lowers them by saying, “Whenever I travel to Spain, I hope to see you on my journey.” This is why he said it: so that they would not be high-minded. What he wants is to show his love, and at the same time to keep them from being spoiled. So he places the one close beside the other, and uses things that confirm each of them in turn.
Again, so that they could not say, “Are you making us a side trip on your journey?” he adds, “and to be sent on my way there by you.” That is, “so that you may be my witnesses that it is not through any slight to you, but by force of necessity, that I hurry past you.”
But since this still stings, he heals it over more carefully by saying, “if first I have been somewhat filled with your company.” By saying “on my journey,” he shows that he was not seeking their good opinion; but by saying “filled,” that he was eager for their love — and not only eager, but exceedingly so. That is why he does not say simply “filled,” but “somewhat” filled. That is, “no length of time can fill me, or give me my fill of your company.” See how he shows his love: even though he is in haste, he does not get up until he has been filled. And it is a sign of his great affection that he uses such warm words. He does not even say, “I will see you,” but, “I will be filled,” imitating in this the language of parents. At the beginning he said, “that I might have some fruit” (Romans 1, verse 13); but here, “that I may be filled.” Both are the words of someone drawing others to himself. The first was very high praise of them, if they were likely to yield him fruit from their obedience; the second, a genuine proof of his own friendship.
Writing to the Corinthians he says the same: “so that you may send me on my way wherever I go” (First Corinthians 16, verse 6). In every way he showed an unrivaled love for his disciples. That is why at the beginning of all his letters it is with this that he starts, and at the end it is with this that he concludes again. For as an indulgent father loves an only, true-born son, so he loved all the faithful. That is why he said, “Who is weak, and I am not weak? Who is made to stumble, and I do not burn?” (Second Corinthians 11, verse 29).
The Shepherd and the Flock
For before everything else, this is what a teacher ought to have. That is why Christ says to Peter, “If you love me, feed my sheep” (John 21, verse 16). For whoever loves Christ loves his flock too. Moses as well: God set him over the people of the Jews only after he had shown kindly feeling toward them. And David came to be king in this way, having first been seen to be tender-hearted toward them. So much did he grieve for the people, young as he still was, that he risked his life for them when he killed that barbarian. And if he said, “What will be done for the man who kills this Philistine?” (First Samuel 19, verse 5; First Samuel 17, verse 26), he said it not to demand a reward, but because he wanted to be trusted and to have the battle with that man put in his charge. That is why, when he came to the king after the victory, he said nothing about these things. Samuel too was very affectionate, which is why he said, “Far be it from me that I should sin by ceasing to pray to the Lord for you” (First Samuel 12, verse 23).
Paul too, in the same way — or rather not in the same way, but to a far greater degree — burned with love for all those in his charge. That is why he made his disciples so affectionate toward himself that he said, “If it had been possible, you would have plucked out your own eyes and given them to me” (Galatians 4, verse 15). This is also why God charges the teachers of the Jews above all with this, saying, “O shepherds of Israel, do shepherds feed themselves? Do they not feed the flock?” (Ezekiel 34, verses 2 and 3). But they did the reverse, for he says, “You eat the milk, and clothe yourselves with the wool, and you slaughter the well-fed ones, but you do not feed the flock.” And Christ, setting out the standard for the best shepherd, said, “The good shepherd lays down his life for the sheep” (John 10, verse 11).
David did this too, both on various other occasions and when that fearful wrath came down from above on the whole people. For while all were being struck down, he said, “I the shepherd have sinned, I the shepherd have done wrong; and these, the flock — what have they done?” (Second Samuel 24, verse 17). So too, in choosing among those punishments, he chose neither famine nor flight before his enemies, but the plague sent by God, hoping to keep all the others safe and to be carried off himself in preference to all the rest. But since it did not turn out so, he laments and says, “Let your hand be on me,” or, if this is not enough, “on my father’s house” as well. “For I,” he says, “the shepherd have sinned.” It is as if he had said, “Even if they too had sinned, I am the one who ought to suffer the punishment, since I did not correct them. But since the sin is mine as well, it is I who deserve to suffer it.” It was to make his guilt heavier that he used the name “shepherd.” So he stopped the wrath; so he had the sentence withdrawn! Such is the power of confession. “For the righteous man is his own accuser first.” Such is the concern and sympathy of a good shepherd. His heart was wrung at their fall, as when one’s own children are killed. That is why he begged that the wrath might come on himself.
He would have done this at the start of the slaughter as well, had he not seen it advancing and expected that it would reach him too. So when he saw that this did not happen, but that the disaster was raging among them, he held back no longer. He was moved more than he had been for Amnon, his firstborn; for then he did not ask for death, but now he begs to fall instead of the others. This is what a ruler ought to be like: grieving more at the calamities of others than at his own.
He went through something like this in his son’s case too, so that you might see that he did not love his son more than his subjects. The young man was unchaste and had raised his hand against his own father, and still David said, “If only I had died instead of you!” (Second Samuel 18, verse 33). What are you saying, you blessed man, gentlest of all men? Your son was set on killing you, and surrounded you with countless troubles. And now that he has been removed and the victory monument has been set up, do you pray to be slain? “Yes,” he says, “for it is not for me that the army has won. I am being warred against more violently than before, and my heart is torn more now than it was before.”
These men, then, all took thought for those committed to their charge. But the blessed Abraham concerned himself deeply even for those who had not been entrusted to him, so much so that he threw himself into frightening dangers. What he did, he did not for his nephew only, but for the people of Sodom as well. He did not stop driving those Persians before him until he had set them all free — and yet he could have gone away once he had recovered his nephew. But he did not choose to, for he had the same concern for all. He showed this in his later conduct too. When it was no longer an army of barbarians about to lay siege to them, but the wrath of God tearing their cities up from their foundations, and it was no longer a time for arms and battle and battle lines, but for pleading, he showed such zeal for them that it was as though he himself were about to perish. That is why he comes to God once, twice, three times, yes, many times, and takes refuge in his own nature as his plea, saying, “I am dust and ashes” (Genesis 18, verse 27). And since he saw that they had betrayed themselves, he begs that they may be saved for the sake of others. That is also why God said, “I will not hide from Abraham my servant what I am about to do” (Genesis 18, verse 17): so that we might learn how kind the righteous man is to his fellow human beings. And he would not have stopped pleading, had not God stopped first. He seems, indeed, to be praying for the righteous, but he is doing it all for the others.
For the souls of the saints are very gentle and kind to their fellow human beings, both toward their own and toward strangers. They extend their gentleness even to the creatures without reason. That is why a certain wise man said, “The righteous man has pity on the lives of his cattle.” And if he pities those of cattle, how much more those of human beings!
Since I have mentioned cattle, let us consider the shepherds in the land of Cappadocia, and how much they suffer, and of what kind, in guarding creatures without reason. They often stay buried under the snow for three days together. And the shepherds in Libya are said to endure no less hardship, ranging for whole months through that wilderness, dreary as it is and full of the most dangerous wild beasts. Now if there is so much zeal for creatures without reason, what defense will we offer, we who are entrusted with rational souls and yet slumber on in this deep sleep? Is it right to rest and be at ease, and not to run about everywhere and give oneself up to endless deaths for these sheep? Or do you not know the dignity of this flock? Was it not for this that your Master took endless pains, and afterward poured out his blood? And are you looking for rest? What could be worse than such shepherds?
Do you not see that around these sheep stand wolves far fiercer and more savage than the wolves of this world? Do you not think to yourself what kind of soul the man ought to have who is to take this office in hand? Men who lead the people in public life, if they have only ordinary matters to deliberate on, add the nights to the days in keeping watch. And we who are struggling on heaven’s behalf sleep even in the daytime. Who will rescue us from the punishment for these things? If the body had to be cut in pieces, if it had to undergo ten thousand deaths, ought one not to run to it as to a feast?
And let not the shepherds only, but the sheep too hear this, so that they may make the shepherds more eager and encourage their goodwill all the more — I mean by nothing else than by showing complete compliance and obedience. That is what Paul too told them: “Obey those who rule over you, and submit to them, for they keep watch over your souls as those who must give an account” (Hebrews 13, verse 17). And when he says “keep watch,” he means thousands of labors, cares and dangers. For the good shepherd, the kind Christ wants, is contending before countless witnesses. Christ died once for him; but this man dies ten thousand times for the flock — if, that is, he is the shepherd he ought to be, for such a man can die every day.
So you who know what the labor is, work together with them — with prayers, with zeal, with readiness, with affection — so that we may have reason to boast of you, and you of us. This is why he entrusted this charge to the chief of the apostles, who also loved him more than the rest, after first asking him whether he loved him: so that you may learn that this, before anything else, is taken as the proof of love for him. For this calls for a vigorous soul.
I have said this of the best shepherds — not of myself and those of our day, but of anyone who may be such as Paul was, such as Peter, such as Moses. Let us imitate these, then, both those of us who rule and those who are ruled. For the one who is ruled may stand in the place of a shepherd to his family, to his friends, to his servants, to his wife, to his children. And if we order our affairs this way, we will attain every kind of good thing. May God grant that we all attain them, 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.