Paul, bondman of Jesus Christ, [a] called apostle, separated to God's glad tidings,
Paul gives three descriptions of himself before he states a single doctrine. He calls himself a slave, an apostle by calling, and a man set apart — which raises three questions: whose slave, appointed by whom, and set apart to what?
Paul had never visited Rome, so he could not point to work he had done among them. One writer notes what he rests on instead:
In no other letter does the apostle put his apostleship on such firm and formal ground. At Rome he could point to no work of his own. He had never seen the Romans. He was still their apostle, because he was the apostle to the Gentiles.
The word translated "servant" means slave, and Paul puts it ahead of his office. One writer also draws a line between being called to be an apostle and being called an apostle.
Paul was not called to be an Apostle, but he was called an Apostle... Paul loved to call himself a slave of Jesus Christ. He knew the Lord had redeemed him. He was no longer his own. He belonged to the One who had bought him and made him one with Himself. His highest ambition was to serve the Lord Jesus Christ. His Apostleship he puts in the second place. The highest and best is to be in reality a willing, devoted servant of the Lord.
Belonging to Christ this way rules out belonging to anything else. The writer turns that into a question for the reader:
"Paul, a servant of Christ Jesus." He was not a servant of any society or party, but of Christ Jesus. Few of us can follow Paul in those few words, and yet how important it is that we do, if our service is to be acceptable to Christ! Have you thought of this as to the whole course of your life and service?
Paul's office did not come from himself. One writer lists what it was not:
Apostleship was not passed down from father to son, like a Jewish priest's place. It was not voted on by the assembly, as the seven men chosen to look after the daily food in Jerusalem were. Still less could a man take it for himself. He was an apostle by calling as the saints were called.
The verse names what Paul was set apart to, not what he was set apart from. One writer draws out both, and stresses how wide the break was.
Here, then, we see Paul a bond-servant of Jesus Christ, an apostle by calling, separated to the gospel of God. This word "separated" covers a great deal. Paul was separated from the world, from the law, and from Judaism, and separated to the glorious good news of God.
This is not a special category reserved for apostles. The same word stands over every believer named in the letter:
We may fall short of it, but we too should know what we are separated to. The name saint that we carry says we are separated, and the same grace that separated the apostle separates us.
Paul calls it the gospel of God. That title points to where the message starts, and it changes what the word "gospel" means.
He calls the gospel to which he was set apart, the gospel or glad tidings "of God": the Holy Spirit shows us where it comes from. It is not what man ought to be for God. It is not simply the way man can come to Him on His throne. It is the thoughts of God, and His acts, we may add, towards man... we never truly understand the gospel until it is to us the gospel of God — God at work, showing us His nature and His will in grace towards man.
The title itself rules out a popular picture of the cross:
Here we have God's gospel. The phrase shows that grace springs from God Himself. It rules out the common idea of an angry God whom Jesus Christ must win over. If it was necessary for our happiness that the Son of man should be lifted up on the cross, it is His own Son whom God has given.
- Source. It is God's gospel because it starts in Him. It is not man's way up to God, but God's own thoughts and acts in grace toward man.
- Bought. Because God moved first, Paul is a slave: redeemed, no longer his own, belonging to the One who bought him.
- Call. No one inherited, voted on, or claimed his office. God called him an apostle, just as God calls believers saints.
- Separation. The same grace that set Paul apart from the world, the law and Judaism sets apart everyone the letter calls a saint.
- Service. Paul is a slave of Jesus Christ, not of any society or party — the test of whether a life's service is acceptable to Christ.
(which he had before promised by his prophets in holy writings,)
God's good news did not begin with Paul, and this second verse says so. Paul says the message he was set apart to preach came first through God's own prophets, in writings God calls holy.
The gospel arrived far along in human history, but it had been in God's heart the whole time.
The fullness of God's spontaneous and active love toward man may be a truth that always feels new to us, because human thoughts prevail so constantly even in the saints. Yet it was no new thing to God. This gospel went out late in the world's history. But He had promised it beforehand through His prophets in holy writings. Those prophets always appear in the past, when everything on man's part was hopeless.
The verse looks back at promise. Paul stands on the other side of it. Notice too who owns the writings and the prophets.
The prophets had already promised this gospel beforehand in holy scripture. But now the announcement was no longer a promise. We do have precious promises for the path we must walk through this world, but the gospel is no promise. Instead, it is the fulfilment of the promises of God, so far as they relate to the Lord's incarnation, His finished work and His resurrection (1 Peter 1:11-12), and to His being glorified — though the Epistle to the Romans does not deal with that last point. Notice here that the "holy scriptures" are the promises of God, and that the prophets who gave them are God's prophets.
If God promised the gospel, we can go and read the promises. They run right across the Old Testament, and some are types — pictures that point ahead.
This Gospel was promised by God's prophets in the Old Testament Scriptures. The announcement came in many ways — in types, in the sacrifices, in direct predictions. Jewish believers looked forward to its accomplishment. You find the promises and predictions of the Gospel throughout the Old Testament, from Genesis 3 to the prophet Malachi. The Old Testament is the foundation of the Gospel. The rejection of the Old Testament as the inspired Word of God is therefore a very serious matter.
The message stood in writing before anyone preached it, so a preacher has something to point at. Paul did just that.
The glad tidings announced by Paul are also confirmed by Holy Scriptures. God's prophets promised them in past days. God's servants proclaim them now, in this day of grace. When they are preached, they carry the authority of the Holy Writings and confirm the promise made there. So in preaching the gospel, the apostle constantly appeals to the Scriptures.
The prophets did not announce everything Paul teaches. One writer draws a line between the gospel, which they foretold, and the mystery, which God kept secret.
But the Gospel, to which Paul says he was separated, had been "promised beforehand through His prophets in the holy Scriptures." So the Gospel was not a secret hidden in the heart of the Creator. The prophets witnessed to it in the Holy Scriptures, right from the beginning of the fall of man until the end of Malachi. These Scriptures make a clear distinction between the Gospel and the mystery. The prophets witnessed to the Gospel during the whole time of man's testing. The mystery stayed the secret of God while that testing lasted.
The prophets spoke of things still to come. But what held all that prophecy together?
But this had been the subject of earlier promise. The prophets had spoken of these things. All prophecy had been the utterance of the Spirit of Christ; and all the promises found their object in His most blessed Person. So the "glad message of God" is simply the announcement that He has come — and in Him all the promises of God are yes and amen.
- Promised — God announced the gospel beforehand through His prophets. It is not a late idea.
- Person — every promise pointed to one object, God's Son, in whom the promises are yes and amen.
- Fulfilled — the prophets held out a promise. Paul announces it as done in Christ's incarnation, finished work and resurrection.
- Founded — types, sacrifices and direct predictions run from Genesis 3 to Malachi. The Old Testament is the foundation of the gospel, so Paul kept appealing to the Scriptures when he preached.
- Beyond promise — the prophets foretold the gospel. The mystery stayed God's secret, and the Scriptures themselves draw that line.
concerning his Son (come of David's seed according to flesh,
Paul opens his letter by naming what his gospel is about. The answer is not a doctrine or a benefit but a Person: God's own Son, born into David's family line. One short phrase holds two things together — who He already was, and what He became.
(The ESV says Jesus was "descended from David." Older translations say "made of the seed of David." Several writers below build on that older wording.)
Paul first says who the good news is about. Only later does he speak of sin, forgiveness, and righteousness. One writer warns that readers often reverse that order:
The first subject of the gospel is the person of the Lord Himself, before you have anything done for us — "concerning His Son Jesus Christ our Lord" (Rom. 1:3); not — concerning "us." Too often the claim of Christ's person gets lost behind the thought of an individual being forgiven.
Nothing in this good news stands apart from Him:
"The gospel of God" is "concerning His Son Jesus Christ." If God is its source, Christ is what fills it through and through. Every single feature of it is joined to the Person of Christ by a living, vital link. The good news is the news that concerns Him. You will find it nowhere else, but you find it fully in Him.
The order of the words matters. Paul does not say that a man of David's line became the Son of God. He says the Son came of David's line.
It was the Son of God who became David's seed by becoming man. Though He was rejected as Son of David, He was declared "the Son of God with power … by the resurrection from the dead." … The idea that a Person in the Godhead, who cannot be described, became the Son of God by becoming man is a false theory, given a fresh lease of life in our day. That the Son of God became the Son of David by becoming man is the truth presented in the Gospel of God.
David's other descendants began to exist when they were born. Scripture uses different words for Christ. One writer sets the two side by side:
Scripture says He was made of the seed of David according to the flesh. What does that mean, when it speaks of our Lord being made of the seed of David? Solomon was of the seed of David. But he did not exist until he was born. He was the seed of David. He was not made of the seed of David. But here Scripture tells us of a Divine Person, who was made of the seed of David, who came of David's seed according to the flesh. Is not the Deity of our Lord implied, His Manhood stated?
David's line is not a background detail. By coming from it, the Son fulfilled God's promise.
The first 17 verses of Romans 1 serve as a preface. In them the person of the Lord Jesus, the Son of God, comes first as the primary subject of the gospel. He is seed of David according to the flesh, and so the fulfilment of the promise. He is proved Son of God with power according to the Spirit of holiness. His life was according to that power, and His resurrection was the proof of it.
How could David call his own descendant "Lord"? Writers point to this verse for the answer:
He was the Son of David, and David called Him Lord by the Holy Spirit, so there was no mistake. The explanation is that it was the Son of God who became the Son of David according to the flesh, as Romans 1:3 states so plainly. Once we fully acknowledge the Deity of Christ, everything is clear.
The same truth is the ground of the blessings Romans goes on to unfold:
The great Gospel letter, written to the believers at Rome, begins by showing that this is the foundation of all the rich blessings unfolded later for faith. Here, then, lies open before us the revealed secret of the believer's blessings now, and of Israel's blessings by and by. This also explains many passages that seem obscure. Some speak of Him as Man, others of Him as God, and sometimes one verse involves both.
- Person — The gospel's first subject is not what happens to us. It is who Christ is. Forgiveness follows; it does not lead.
- Son — He is called God's Son before the phrase about David's line; He did not become the Son by being born.
- Made — Solomon was David's seed; Christ was made of it. The word assumes Someone who already existed.
- Flesh — His entry into David's family line is God's promise kept in fact, not just in word.
- Key — Hold the two together and David's puzzle is solved. His Son is also his Lord. Verses that once looked contradictory now fit, and the letter's blessings rest here.
marked out Son of God in power, according to [the] Spirit of holiness, by resurrection of [the] dead) Jesus Christ our Lord;
Paul opens his letter by summing up the gospel in a description of Christ. He is a real man born into David's family, and the Son of God marked out in power. Two questions follow: what did the resurrection prove, and what does "Spirit of holiness" mean?
The verse names four glories of Christ, and the order matters.
First, Paul presents Christ as the Son. This speaks of His divine and eternal Personality, unchanged by anything He became. Second, he presents Christ in His incarnation, "come of David's seed according to flesh". This speaks not of His inherent Personal glory, but of what He became as a perfect Man. He was the Son before He came of the seed of David. He did not become the Son by becoming incarnate. Third, He became flesh, and the glory of His Person is guarded here: as a Man He is marked out from all others as the Son of God, in divine power. Fourth, Christ is acknowledged to be Jesus Christ, our Lord. Those who believe God's testimony about Him gladly come under His rule by owning Him as their Lord and Master.
Israel's teachers got as far as "the son of David" and stopped there.
When the blessed Lord asked them, "What do you think about the Christ? Whose son is he?" the scribes answer, "The son of David." They had no greater conception of their Messiah than this. And truly He was the son of David… But He had a greater glory than that of son of David; He was also Son of God. A mere son of David could have been no better than his father.
Raw power is not the point here.
Power raised Him, but it was not simply power — power will raise the wicked, yet will not declare them sons of God in any sense. This raising is according to the Spirit of holiness. It is according to the nature and character of God, glorified in all Christ's ways, and sealed and marked out in resurrection.
Commentators differ over what the phrase names. One writer sets out the common view, then rejects it:
Many take "a Spirit of holiness" (there is no article before "Spirit") to be the Lord's divine nature. That, they argue, is the proper contrast here: "according to the flesh," "according to the spirit." But Scripture uses no similar language anywhere else for the divine nature of our Lord.
Another writer ties the phrase to how Christ lived:
The Spirit of holiness that marked Him as He passed through this defiled world was the power by which He rose from the dead, having broken the power of death.
The phrase reaches wider than Easter morning.
Romans 1:4 does not limit the meaning to His own resurrection determining Him to be the Son of God with power. That is not what the verse says. It says that resurrection of the dead — the raising of dead persons — was the great proof that defined Him to be the Son of God with power. His own resurrection was the most astonishing instance of it, no doubt. But His raising of dead persons during His ministry was a witness too, and the resurrection of His saints later on will be the display of it.
Power and its proof belong together here, and one writer illustrates it simply:
If I lift up this table, I do it by power. At the same time, the act of lifting the table is what proves this power.
The world had already passed sentence on Him. God reversed it publicly.
The resurrection justified Jesus. It declared Him "Son of God with power according to the Spirit of holiness" when the world had crucified Him as an impostor.
The risen Christ is not only proof of who He is. He also shapes how believers now stand before God.
The cross, the death, and the blood-shedding of Jesus are now past. He was raised from among the dead, and the same Spirit of holiness now sets Him before us in risen life, with not a trace of the sin for which He suffered… This is what the letter opens out to us as the measure and pattern of our new standing and state before God.
- Person first. He was Son before He was David's descendant. Becoming man added what He became. It took nothing from what He was.
- Proof, not promotion. "Declared" means marked out or determined. The resurrection defined a Sonship already His. It did not create it.
- Power with a character. Bare power will raise the wicked too. Christ was raised according to the Spirit of holiness, which matches the nature of God.
- Proof at full reach. Not only His own rising, but every dead person He raised, and the raising of His people still to come.
- Pattern for us. The world called Him an impostor, and God vindicated Him. Believers own Him as Lord, and His risen life is the measure of their new standing.
by whom we have received grace and apostleship in behalf of his name, for obedience of faith among all the nations,
Everything Paul is and does came to him through the risen Christ. This verse holds four things together: grace, apostleship, obedience of faith, and a reach to every nation. All of it serves one purpose — the honour of Christ's name.
Paul names two gifts, not one. He received the office, and with it the grace needed to carry it out.
This, then, was the glorious Person that Paul came to present. Christ was gone from the world; but Paul is sent as an apostle to represent Christ. He comes "on behalf of His name". To be a fitting representative, he had received from Christ "grace and apostleship". Not only apostleship, but the needed grace to exercise the apostleship. He did not receive his commission from man, or by any human training, or ordination.
That grace was not a reward for anything in Paul. It reached him at the worst possible moment of his life.
Whatever Paul was as an apostle, it was all grace received. Did not the Lord shine across his path, in pure, free favour, at the very moment he was mad — yes, raging mad — against Christ?
The phrase sounds like a life of good conduct. One commentator argues it points first to a single act — accepting God's word about His Son.
Take the case of the soul's submission to the righteousness of God. Romans calls this "obedience of faith." It does not mean the practical obedience that faith produces in daily life. It means the first act of believing God's word. This is the heart's obedience. It is the person's obeying the truth, the soul's acceptance of God's testimony to His Son.
Another writer explains why faith and obedience are joined in this phrase.
If Paul comes as the representative of Christ, "on behalf of His Name", it is to bring people to submit to Christ, to bring them under His rule — to obey Him. Only those who believe will submit, so it is called the "obedience of faith".
The difference is not just which rules apply. It is where the obedience comes from.
This is not the obedience of law, which is only outward. It is the obedience that springs from a heart purified by faith. The gospel calls for, and produces, full confidence in the name of Christ — a confidence that bows in subjection to Him.
The wording is careful. Paul's commission travels to every nation without subduing any of them.
This obedience of faith was "among all nations," not of all nations. The grace and truth must go to men as such. God, revealed in this way, could not be for Jews only. But the time had not come to bring all nations under His power. It was time to call a people out of them — "to take out of them a people for his name."
The final clause gives the reason for the whole work. One writer sees in it the highest honour Christ's name can receive. He follows an older translation, which ends the verse with "for his name."
"To the obedience of faith among all nations" (Rom. 1:5), and then it is added, "for His name" — showing how His glory is bound up in this. As I have said, the brightest, dearest, most welcome honour His name could receive, it receives from the faith of a sinner.
If obedience stands at the front of the letter, does that make it a condition of salvation?
Scripture keeps obedience and practice in the right place. Good works do not make the Christian; they show him and suit him. They cannot exist before a person is born again... To speak to such people of obedience as a means of salvation proves complete ignorance of ourselves and of God. It shows that, like Israel at Sinai, we confuse responsibility with power.
The same expression returns at the end of the letter. The pair marks out the two halves of Paul's service.
This expression is found in only two places: Rom. 1:5 and 16:26. Here the gospel is presented for obedience of faith. The other passage presents the Church — the mystery — as revealed also for obedience of faith. Paul's twofold ministry is presented in this way.
- Grace first. Paul received grace and apostleship together. The office never came without the supply to carry it. Both came from Christ, not from human training or ordination.
- Grace to a rebel. The favour that made him an apostle met him while he was raging against Christ. Nothing in Paul earned it.
- Obedience, not law. The gospel asks the heart to bow to God's word about His Son. That obedience is inward, not the outward obedience of law.
- All nations, not whole nations. The message goes among all nations, not to Jews only, to call out a people for God's name.
- All for the Name. Grace, commission, and obedience all serve Christ's honour. A sinner's faith is the brightest honour His name can receive.
among whom are *ye* also [the] called of Jesus Christ
Paul has just described the grace and apostleship he received to bring "all the nations" to the obedience of faith. Verse 6 turns that commission on his readers. The Christians at Rome are not watching this work from outside. They are inside it. And the phrase Paul uses for them raises a bigger question: what makes anyone a Christian? (Older translations render the phrase "called of Jesus Christ," and the commentators below follow that wording.)
Paul has stated his own credentials. Now he states theirs, and one word links them.
Such was his passport: what was theirs? "Among whom are you also, called of Jesus Christ." They were among the nations. His commission was toward all the nations. Was he a called apostle? So were they saints, not by birth nor by ordinance, but by the call of Jesus Christ who had called him as apostle.
Who does the calling here? One writer answers: Jesus Himself.
God calls on man to obey Himself by receiving Jesus as the Lord. The name of Jesus is the revelation of God. But verse 6 presents Jesus as Himself acting in calling and giving life at His will. They were "the called of Jesus Christ." The Apostle knew well what this meant. Christ Himself had chosen him and called him, a vessel of divine mercy.
Much depends on how the word "called" is read. One writer explains it with a soldier.
Just as a soldier is called to be an efficient soldier. But he must be, and is, a soldier by calling or enlistment first… Let us take the apostleship of Paul to explain this. "Paul, a servant of Jesus Christ, called to be an apostle, separated to the gospel of God." Do you notice the words "to be" are in italics? They are not in the original. The literal translation is this: "an apostle by calling," just like the soldier, "a soldier by enlistment, or calling." The Lord did not enlist Paul to reach apostleship at some future time. He made him an apostle there and then.
Israel's holiness came with the nation and its rituals. The believers in Rome had neither, and needed neither.
The believers at Rome were among these Gentiles. They were saints — not by birth, not by ceremonial institutions, but by divine call. The Jews were born a holy nation in comparison with the Gentiles. The Roman Christians were saints by the calling of Jesus Christ, and beloved of God.
How does a person become a saint? One writer rules out the two usual answers.
No church authority can confer the status of saint after death; still less can anyone acquire it by self-effort in life. Copying the manners of the Prince of Wales will never make you Prince of Wales. Striving after holiness will never make you a saint. People become saints by divine call. They hear the voice of God speaking to them in the gospel. It tells them of their sins and of the Saviour's atoning blood, and they bow to the message in faith… In a moment they are transformed from sinners into saints. It is God's doing; and it is a marvel of infinite grace. The robber of Calvary and the religious zealot of Tarsus, Mary Magdalene and the excellent Sarah, came from very different backgrounds. Yet all alike were saints. Each one had experienced the same gracious work of God in their souls.
Being Christ's called ones is not only a title. It attaches a person to Him and gives them work to do here.
Paul writes to these saints at Rome. They had believed the gospel he declared to them. He assures them that they were now "the called of Jesus Christ." As such they were attached to Him in heaven above, with His name resting on them. Not only were they blessed through Him, but they were to be His representatives in this world.
What is a saint, then, and what follows from being one?
A saint is a sanctified or separated person… No doubt we ought to be holy in our ways, our walk, and our whole manner of life. But we must know our place and calling first, before we can live up to it. A person must be my child to behave as my child. Another has well said Christian duties flow from Christian relationships.
- Called by Christ. Verse 6 shows Jesus Himself calling and giving life at His will. The readers are His called ones.
- Called, not qualified. The words "to be" are not in the original. Paul was an apostle by calling; believers are saints by calling, made so at once.
- Called, not born. Israel's holiness came by birth and ceremony. This one comes by divine call, so it reached Gentiles in Rome.
- Called without exception. The robber at the cross and the persecutor from Tarsus stand on the same footing. The same work of God made both saints.
- Called for Christ. The call attaches them to Him with His name resting on them, and duty follows: know your place first, then live up to it.
to all that are in Rome, beloved of God, called saints Grace to you and peace from God our Father and [our] Lord Jesus Christ.
Paul's opening sentence in Romans runs six verses before it names its readers. He describes them in three ways — in Rome, loved by God, called saints — and then greets them with grace and peace from two names.
Many translations, including the ESV, read "called to be saints." Translators add the words "to be." Commentators say the addition changes the sense.
"Called to be an apostle" is just as wrong as "called to be saints" in Romans 1:7. He was an apostle at that moment, and they were saints in the same way. There is no need to add any words in either case. In both, adding "to be" weakens the sense and makes it false, instead of defining it properly. For the saints in their call, as for the apostle in his, it was a fact. It was not a birthright, and it was not something they achieved. They became what they were — apostles or saints — by God's call.
Holy living is not the entrance fee. It follows from what God has already made us.
And then we are saints. We are not called to be saints, or to become saints, by living a separated life. God has made us saints in Christ, sanctified — that is, set apart for Himself. Nothing we do could ever make us the beloved of God. No effort of ours to live consistently and away from evil could make us saints of God. God has done it for us in Christ. And because we are saints, we can live holy lives.
The love named here is not God's general goodwill toward the world, but a bond that belongs to those who have believed.
This is not the side of God's love we find in John 3:16, where it is at work in a world of sinners and shown to everyone. This is the personal link kept for true believers alone. It is not just that the sun shines on all people. The light and warmth of that sunshine have broken into their old frozen state, and have stirred a love in return — a love that delights to find itself taken hold of and blessed according to God's love.
Paul does not greet them as a church, the way he did elsewhere. He writes to all the believers living in the city.
He does not write to them as a church, as he normally did when writing to a church he had founded. He addresses his letter to all in Rome who are loved by God, called saints. As the apostle sent to the nations, he could write to them all with the authority of Christ.
One writer traces a possible starting point:
The Bible gives us no details about how the church in Rome was formed. But we do know that on the day of Pentecost there were Jews from Rome in Jerusalem for the Jewish Feast of Pentecost. Acts 2:10 speaks of visitors from Rome, both Jews and converts to the Jewish faith. If some of them came to believe in the Lord Jesus, the first Christians could have been living in Rome around the year 30 AD.
The two words are not decoration. One supplies, the other steadies.
The greeting is the same as in his other letters: "Grace to you and peace from God our Father and the Lord Jesus Christ." Grace is the active favour of God, supplied in abundance. Peace is the calm that comes from submitting to Him and sharing close fellowship with Him.
Note which peace he means, and who in that city had it:
We need grace every day. We also need peace of heart all the time, or the circumstances we pass through will overwhelm us. It is peace of heart the apostle mentions here, not peace of conscience. What a privilege to be a Christian! A slave in Rome, if he was a believer, had a portion from God the Father and from the Lord Jesus Christ that the Emperor, with all his wealth and all his power, knew nothing of.
Paul names the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ together as the one source of both.
This is the apostle's opening wish or prayer, here as in Romans 1:7 — from God in His relation as Father to us, and from Jesus Christ as Lord (compare 1 Corinthians 8:6). Joining the two names like this would be impossible in an inspired writing, and an insult anywhere, if they were not one in the unity of the divine nature. True and sovereign favour was the spring; grace was the result, proving and magnifying its source. Let us enjoy the gift and adore the Giver.
- Called — Paul was an apostle by calling; his readers were saints by calling. Not a rank they climbed to, but a fact God's call created.
- Loved — "Beloved of God" is a personal bond kept for believers, not the wide love shown to a world of sinners.
- Made — Nothing we do makes us saints. God set us apart in Christ, and holy living flows out of that, never into it.
- Supplied — Grace is His active favour for daily need. Peace is calm of heart in hard circumstances, not just a cleared conscience.
- Sourced — Both come from the Father and the Lord Jesus Christ together. A slave in Rome held what the Emperor could not buy.
First, I thank my God through Jesus Christ for you all, that your faith is proclaimed in the whole world.
Paul had never visited Rome. Yet he opens his letter to the believers there not with correction, but with thanks to God for people he knew only by report. He gives that thanks through Jesus Christ. And the thing he thanks God for is their faith, known far beyond their own city.
The wording is personal. Paul does not say "God" but "my God," and he brings his thanks through Jesus Christ. One writer links that closeness to God with Paul's warmth toward believers he had never met:
Warmth of affection was natural, so to speak, to one living like this with God — "my God" — while in this world. His joy was not in wrongdoing — wretched flesh delights in what is like itself. His joy was in what was of God, "through Jesus Christ," even though he only knew it by report. He could appeal to God for the best of all evidence of his thankfulness to Him for it, and of his love to them.
The letter that follows is about how a sinner can stand before God. So it matters that the first thing Paul thanks God for is faith. One writer turns that on the reader:
This letter reveals the ground of a sinner's standing before God. So notice the first thing the apostle thanks God for, through Jesus Christ, on behalf of them all: "your faith is proclaimed in all the world." Faith has the first place. Dear reader, is your faith well known, or is it doubtful whether you really believe God? This is the first point to settle. Everything else will follow in order after that.
Rome sat at the centre of an empire, and word travelled out from it. That explains how believers there became known everywhere:
His warm and steady affection kept carrying them on his heart before God. It delighted in the good report of their faith announced in the whole world. Such a report could spread easily from that seat of central authority. Rome made its will and mind felt to the far edges of its vast empire and beyond.
Paul was the apostle sent to the nations, yet the church in Rome grew without him. One writer points to what he did not feel:
His thanksgiving is all the more beautiful when we remember that Paul had never seen the Roman believers. His heart holds no spirit of envy. It overflows with rejoicing at the work God had plainly done in that distant land.
Paul had wanted to come, but something had stopped him. One writer sees God's hand in that delay:
Paul had a deep longing to see the saints at Rome, but until now something had hindered him. We see here proof of the wisdom and foreknowledge of God. Suppose Paul or Peter had founded the assembly at Rome. What an argument that would have been for so-called apostolic succession! There is no evidence as to whom the Holy Spirit used in forming that important assembly. There is no evidence that any apostle had been there at this time. Yet the faith of this assembly — or rather of all the called saints — was spoken of in this way and well known.
What Paul praised God for, he also prayed about — and then he longed to visit:
The report of their faith had reached the apostle, lifting up his heart in praise to God. What is more, he does not only praise God for their faith. He also prays to God without ceasing because of their need. As one has said, "the sincerest faith was never beyond the need of help." And those we can both praise and pray for are the ones we want to see.
A worldwide reputation for faith did not mean there was nothing left to give them. One writer reads Paul's readiness to preach there as a sign of what they still lacked:
Many there had clearly received the gospel as the word of God, since their faith was spoken of throughout the whole world. But something seems to have been lacking in their grounding in "the righteousness of God" — the main subject of the letter. So Paul said he was ready to preach at Rome as well as to others.
- First — thanks. Paul's first move toward these believers is not argument or correction. It is thanks to God, offered through Jesus Christ.
- Thanks for faith. The one thing named is their faith, and in a letter about how a sinner stands before God, that is the point to settle first.
- Faith that travelled. From the empire's centre the report ran everywhere. A group no apostle had founded became known across the world.
- Thanks without envy. God worked in Rome without Paul, and Paul's heart overflows rather than competes.
- Thanks that keeps working. Praise for their faith turns into constant prayer, and then into longing to visit. Even the sincerest faith still needs help, and theirs needed grounding in the righteousness of God.
For God is my witness, whom I serve in my spirit in the glad tidings of his Son, how unceasingly I make mention of you,
Paul writes to a church he has never visited, and makes a claim no reader in Rome could check: that he prays for them without ceasing. He calls God to witness, and in the same breath names the service God sees — service carried on with his spirit, in the gospel of His Son.
Jesus and James both warned against swearing, yet Paul calls God to witness here and in other letters. The two are not the same act.
James 5:12 firmly forbids swearing by heaven or by earth. He does not mean oaths taken before a judge, which are not the swearing people do. He means being sworn in God's name. Neither our Lord nor His servant prohibited such appeals to God as in Romans 1:9, 1 Corinthians 15:31, 2 Corinthians 1:23, Galatians 1:20, or the like.
The phrase "with my spirit" points to the inward side of Paul's service. The verse also moves from "the gospel of God" in verse 1 to "the gospel of His Son."
Notice the change of expression here in passing. It is the gospel of God's Son now, not simply of God, however beautiful that was in its place (v. 1). But now the apostle is not thinking of the source that gave the gospel its character. He is thinking of the way and the means by which His grace worked to deliver the lost. It was therefore the gospel of His Son as well as His own. Here too the apostle describes his own serving of God "with my spirit." That is not mere outward work, and not a bare sense of duty pressing on him. It is active and intelligent devotion from within, in the gospel of God's Son.
Service can be busy and still be empty. One writer traces real power back to communion with God.
The apostle served God with, or in, his spirit, in the gospel of His Son. It was ministry in communion with the source from which it took its rise. Indeed there is no real power of God otherwise, though there may be much activity. But service is a poor thing when duty is its only motive.
Another writer puts the same test to the reader, and links it to Paul's success.
What real heart work it was with Paul! … What deep love for those he had never seen! All of it was done to God, in the gospel of His Son. Is it so with us, or is it mere cold imitation? Was this not the secret of Paul's success? If it is lacking with us, must there not be failure?
The Greek word Paul uses for "serve" once meant work done for hire. Scripture puts it to a higher use.
latreuo is a word translated "worship" three times, though it is usually translated "to serve." It is linked with latron, "hire," so its original force is "serving for hire," not forced work like a slave's. But Biblical Greek lifts this word, and its noun latreia, "service," to a higher use. There it never means any service except service to God, or to false gods. So it fully answers to the present sense of "worship," and all true service shares this character.
The one message carries several names in Scripture. Each name says something about it.
This message is called the Gospel of God (Rom. 1:1), because it comes from Him. It is called the Gospel of the grace of God (Acts 20:24), because it tells of His grace. It is called the Gospel of His Son (Rom. 1:9), of Christ (Rom. 15:19), and of our Lord Jesus (2 Thess. 1:8), because it speaks of what He has suffered and done for us. It is also called the Gospel of our salvation (Eph. 1:13), for by it we are saved (1 Cor. 15:2).
Paul's constant mention of the Romans held one prayer in particular: that he might reach them. Look at how God answered it.
Notice how carefully and earnestly he backs up his words: "For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of his Son." Can there be any doubt that his prayers were real? Not at all. He had wanted this visit so deeply that he would say, "if by any means." God granted it. He came as a prisoner, carried there for trial — and he still rejoiced in the Lord.
- Witness. Calling God to witness is not the swearing Jesus forbade. It is an appeal to the One who can see a hidden life of prayer.
- Spirit. What God witnesses is inward — not outward works or bare duty, but active, intelligent devotedness.
- Worship. Paul's word for "serve" fits God alone, so all true service shares the character of worship.
- Son. The message he serves in takes the Son's name, because it tells what He suffered and did for us.
- Answer. That inward service kept him praying for strangers, and God brought him to Rome as a prisoner to answer the prayer.
always beseeching at my prayers, if any way now at least I may be prospered by the will of God to come to you.
Paul had never seen the believers in Rome, yet he keeps asking God for a way to reach them. He ties the request to one condition, and the verse shows how he handles a longing he cannot satisfy himself.
This request is no formality in a letter's opening. One writer looks at the words just before it, where Paul calls God as witness to how he serves.
What real heart work it was with Paul! He says, "For God is my witness, whom I serve with my spirit in the gospel of His Son, that without ceasing I mention you always in my prayers." What deep love to those he had never seen! This was not outward service, but "with my spirit." All done to God in the gospel of His Son. Is it so with us, or mere cold imitation? Was not this the secret of Paul's success? If it is lacking with us, must there not be failure?
Paul does not just say he holds them in mind. His asking has a definite object, and the same pattern returns at the end of the letter.
In the first chapter of Romans, Paul does more than speak of mentioning them always in his prayers. He made a definite request: that by the will of God he might become a blessing and a comfort to them, and that their faith might comfort him too (vv. 10-12). In the fifteenth chapter he begs them, for the Lord Jesus Christ's sake, to pray as well. He asks that he might come to them by the will of God, and be refreshed with them.
That phrase is the hinge of the verse. Paul prayed for the journey often, and the answer came in a shape he had not pictured.
I take it that it was according to God's mind that Paul should go to Rome. He had often prayed for it (Romans 1:10), if it were God's will. I have no doubt that God granted the request, though not quite in the way the apostle had expected. When he prayed that he might reach the saints at Rome and give them some spiritual gift, he probably had no idea that he would go there in chains. But so it was. At the same time God answered his prayers, and more than answered them.
One writer sets the same habit before us as a rule for our own praying.
Presenting our requests, subject to His will, is always right. Of this we have an example even in Gethsemane; so Paul for his thorn in the flesh. And the answer will be more glorious and blessed than the request, even when it does not come in the form we asked for. Let us trust His love, and this will not come short.
"Now at last" carries years of waiting. Paul kept praying while the way stayed blocked, and he says what he was after.
They had a good report, and Paul longed and prayed that he might see them, but had so far been hindered. He wanted to settle them firmly in the faith by sharing spiritual things with them. He explains what he means in verse 12. The gifts were not great abilities, miraculous powers, and the like. They were to build one another up in the faith. It is better to be godly than gifted.
Paul did reach Rome, and he came as a prisoner. What he did on arrival shows how he read the outcome.
When he wrote his letter, we may be sure he little thought he was to see them as Rome's prisoner. He made request that he might have a prosperous journey to them (Rom. 1:10), and had told them to pray that he might reach them with joy (Rom. 15:32). But here is something beautiful. The Spirit of God had given his journey and his arrival among them this character. Even so, Paul treats it as nothing less than a full answer to his desires. "He thanks God," owning the answer to his request.
The record in Acts shows what became of each part of the prayer.
He had prayed for three things: to come to the saints at Rome, to be comforted in them, and to have some fruit among them. These had been his desires (Rom. 1:10-13), and God answered every one of them (Acts 28:15-24). He sees them, he takes courage, and, through preaching, gathers fruit there as well as among other Gentiles.
- Heart — The prayer flows from service given "with my spirit," not from cold imitation; Paul carried people he had never seen.
- Ask — The request was definite: a safe journey, mutual comfort, fruit among them. Named requests, not vague goodwill.
- Submit — "By God's will" is the safeguard. Bring the request, and leave the decision with God. That is always right.
- Wait — Obstacles blocked him again and again, and he kept asking; the delay never turned into silence.
- Receive — The answer came in chains and was still a full answer. He thanked God and took courage; God met every part of the prayer.
For I greatly desire to see you, that I may impart to you some spiritual gift to establish you;
Paul had not yet been to Rome. Yet he tells this church he longs to be with them, and he gives his reason. He wants to hand them something that will steady them. Two questions sit inside the verse. What is this "spiritual gift"? And what does it mean to be strengthened — "established", as older translations put it?
Paul's wish to visit grows out of the praying he has just described. His thanks and his requests point the same way.
News of their faith had reached the Apostle and lifted up his heart in praise to God. He does not only praise God for their faith. He also prays to God without ceasing for their need. As someone has said, "the sincerest faith was never beyond the need of help". And the people we can both praise and pray for are the people we want to see.
Commentators differ on what this gift is. Some tie it to Paul's apostolic office. Others point to the next verse, where Paul explains himself.
He wanted them fully established in the faith, and he would do it by giving them things of a spiritual nature. He explains what he means in verse 12. The gifts were a matter of building each other up in the faith, not the handing over of great abilities, miraculous powers, and the like. It is better to be godly than gifted.
Others read it as something only his apostleship let him give. Even then, what he wanted was faith enjoyed together.
He wants to see them, so that he may give them some spiritual gift, which his apostleship put him in a position to pass on. What he had in his heart was this: that he might enjoy the faith he shared with them — faith strengthened by these gifts — for their comfort together.
The word "spiritual" matters. No one can pass this gift on by ordinary human skill, and that shapes how a servant of Christ works.
The faithful servant of Christ seeks to give spiritual benefit to those who hear him — "some spiritual gift to strengthen you" (Romans 1:11). He wants them to share in "spiritual things" (15:27) by their own experience. Such things cannot be handed over in a merely natural way. They come "not in words taught by human wisdom, but in those taught by the Spirit, communicating spiritual things by spiritual means" (1 Cor. 2:13).
Forgiveness and a settled faith are two different things. One writer keeps them apart.
The apostle's aim was that those who came under his ministry should be established. The fact that I have peace with God does not mean I am well grounded in the faith. So whether it is Peter or Paul, both work to establish and encourage souls.
This aim also shapes the whole letter.
From the opening verses we learn that the great purpose of the letter is to establish believers in their personal relationship with God. As the Apostle says, "to strengthen you". To do this he shows that the gospel is God's power to save, because in it God reveals His righteousness. Nothing establishes a believer like the discovery that God not only saves the sinner who believes in Jesus, but saves him righteously — that is, in a way that agrees with His own holy nature.
Some have called Paul's warm words flattery — the move of a man building a following. One writer answers that charge.
One of this world's wise men has dared to accuse the holy apostle of pious cunning and holy flattery. No doubt that judgment came out of the critic's own spirit, and out of his inability to appreciate the delicate feelings that grace makes easy and natural… What we see here is the tact of tender love toward people who were saints of God in such a place, not the manoeuvring of a clever party leader.
Paul's longing went unmet for years. What came out of the delay was larger than the visit would have been.
He wanted to give them some special gift for their fuller establishment in the faith. But the thought of divine love and wisdom, faintly reflected in the apostle's heart, reached wider and wiser toward His church — and not at Rome only — than His servant could take in at the time. Paul's thwarted desires gave the Spirit of God the occasion to write and publish, by his hand, this priceless letter. It was a gift to the Church, not one of passing effect, but one that would build up, feed, and teach the saints to the end.
- Prayer — Paul praised God for their faith and prayed for their need. The people we thank God for and pray for are the people we long to see.
- Gift — the giving is spiritual, so it cannot travel by natural means. Commentators differ on whether Paul meant a gift tied to his apostleship or plain mutual building up. All agree the aim was strength, not spectacle.
- Established — peace with God does not by itself make anyone well grounded. Nothing settles a believer like learning that God saves righteously, in keeping with His own holy nature.
- Manner — an apostle came asking to give and to receive. That is love, not strategy.
- Result — the visit did not come for years. Out of that unmet longing came a letter that has been establishing believers ever since.
that is, to have mutual comfort among you, each by the faith [which is] in the other, both yours and mine.
In verse 11 Paul tells the believers in Rome that he wants to come and give them a gift to strengthen them. Then he corrects himself: the comfort will run both ways, and that small change shows how a servant of Christ stands among God's people.
Paul keeps his apostleship, but he uses it in love:
He longed to see them, so that he might give them some spiritual gift to establish them. But in the same breath he takes his place in love among them. He says, "That is, that we may be mutually encouraged by each other's faith, both yours and mine." He was an apostle, and he should act in love. So, as an apostle, he should come down to the weakest, to raise them up to confidence in God.
The gift Paul wanted to bring was not a display of power:
He explains what he means in verse 12. The gifts were meant to build up faith on both sides. They were not the giving of great abilities, miraculous powers, and the like. It is better to be godly than gifted.
Notice who wanted comfort here, and where he was ready to find it:
This is a lovely thing — the very opposite of lording it over others. Only think of this blessed servant of Christ! He was the greatest teacher the church has ever had, and he longed to be comforted by the faith of the very feeblest saint in the assembly. He longed for fellowship — he was ready to help, but he did not want to monopolise. He would not put out the dying embers. He would gather them together and build them up, so that he and they might be "mutually encouraged."
Kelly points to the ground the apostle and the believers stand on together:
If God called him, He called them too — him an apostle, them not apostles but saints. Yet for them as for him, all flowed out of the same mighty love of God... There is nothing like the grace of God for producing the truest humility.
Paul's ministry would do something among the believers themselves:
His ministry would lead the saints to practise godly unity and fellowship with understanding. His own heart yearned for their faith and drew comfort from it, and they drew comfort from his. There is mutual comfort only when there is mutual cultivation of faith. This was not mere emotion. The apostle had often planned before to visit the saints at Rome, but he had been hindered.
Some have read Paul's warmth here as flattery. Kelly answers that charge:
One of this world's thinkers has dared to accuse the holy apostle of pious craft and holy flattery. But that judgment, no doubt, came out of the man's own spirit. He could not appreciate the delicate feelings which grace makes easy and habitual... What we see here is the tact of tender love toward people who were saints of God in such a place — not the manoeuvring of a skilful party-leader.
Paul did travel to Rome in the end. Kelly notes what the believers there did for him on the way:
But how sweet and wonderful are the dealings of grace! We know on unquestionable authority what happened. The Lord used the saints he was going to help so greatly to cheer the apostle himself on the road. That is the best comment on his own words written to them beforehand.
- Longing. Paul asks to come and bring a spiritual gift to establish the believers. Then he explains what he means: building up on both sides, not great abilities.
- Correction. In the same breath he takes his place in love among them. He comes down to the weakest, to raise them up to confidence in God.
- Level ground. God called him an apostle and them saints. Both flowed from the same mighty love — and nothing produces truer humility than grace.
- Cultivation. Comfort runs both ways only where both sides cultivate faith. The greatest teacher wanted comfort from the feeblest believer.
- Fulfilment. On the road to Rome, the Lord used the very believers Paul was going to help to cheer him — verse 12 lived out, just as he had written it.
But I do not wish you to be ignorant, brethren, that I often proposed to come to you, (and have been hindered until the present time,) that I might have some fruit among you too, even as among the other nations also.
Paul is writing to a church he had never visited. Here he opens up his own plans: he had tried again and again to reach Rome, and every try was blocked. Why was the capital of the empire his business at all? What harvest did he hope to gather? And who kept stopping him?
He does not want them in the dark about his plans. That openness came from more than his office:
He wrote to them, and he longed to see them. This was not only to carry out his commission as an apostle, or to use his apostolic authority. It grew out of a brother's love that longed for them. He counted on receiving comfort from them, as well as on giving them spiritual blessing.
Another writer sets the two sides side by side: real authority, and real tenderness.
By right he is apostle to all the Gentiles, even if he has never seen them. But in heart he is their servant. He wants to see them, with the truest and warmest brotherly love — a love flowing from the grace that had made him an apostle.
Why does Paul speak of Rome as a place where he owes work? The phrase "as among the rest of the Gentiles" claims the city for his commission.
As the apostle of the Gentiles, he would not neglect any part of the field put in his care. So he had often planned to come to them, to have fruit among them as well as elsewhere. We see that the church at Rome was mainly a Gentile church, and so it counted as part of his field of work.
The letter also shows what kind of church was already there:
The letter itself, from the first chapter to the last, is the fullest proof that a large number of believers were already there — both Jews and Gentiles.
One writer sees two kinds of fruit in view:
Paul wanted to share fellowship with them, and to bear some fruit among them. That fruit might be the conversion of souls. Or it might be the giving of some spiritual gift to those already brought to Christ.
Commentators differ on the cause of the delay. Some read the block as enemy action, and draw a lesson for anyone in the Lord's work:
The apostle would have liked to visit the Christians at Rome sooner, but Satan had hindered him. The Lord's work is always carried on in front of an enemy who tries to stop its progress. He may use persecution. He may stir up evil in the churches, which the worker then has to deal with. He may use false teaching, which eats up the worker's time, or all sorts of other tricks. The worker needs to notice this. That is how he learns dependence.
Others look at the same delay from the far end and see God's hand in it:
May we not see the grace and wisdom of God in allowing a hindrance that gave us a letter written for the blessing of God's people in every age? It is good for us to trace the hand of God in what He hinders as well as in what He allows. It is good to submit to His closed doors, as well as to walk through His open ones.
Paul did reach Rome — but as a prisoner, not as he had pictured it:
When he wrote his letter, we may be sure he little thought he would see them as Rome's prisoner. He asked for a good journey to them, and had told them to pray that he might reach them with joy. But here is something beautiful and blessed. The Spirit of God shaped his journey and his arrival in this way, yet Paul does not treat it as anything less than a full answer to what he asked. He thanks God, owning it as the answer to his prayer.
And he did gather the fruit he asked for, from both sides:
Paul had hoped to have fruit among the Gentiles at Rome, as he had among others (Rom. 1:13). Here we see fruit for God among the Jews. And he did have converts among the Gentiles in Rome, for he could write to Philemon, "I appeal to you for my child, Onesimus, whose father I became in my imprisonment."
- Purpose — he planned the trip again and again. Love for them drove it as much as his commission: apostle by right, servant in heart.
- Province — Rome lay inside the Gentile field God gave him, so he claimed work there, though he had never seen the church.
- Fruit — he wanted a harvest of two kinds: souls converted, and believers built up by a spiritual gift.
- Hindrance — commentators differ on the cause. Some see the enemy resisting the work, which teaches the worker dependence. Others see a closed door of God's, which gave us this letter.
- Fulfilment — the answer came, but in chains. Paul thanked God for it, and gathered fruit in Rome from Jews and Gentiles alike.
I am a debtor both to Greeks and barbarians, both to wise and unintelligent
Paul is writing to a church he has never visited, and here he explains why he keeps trying to reach it. He does not call himself generous or gifted. He says he owes something. The two pairs he names — Greeks and barbarians, wise and foolish — leave nobody outside that debt.
Paul makes three statements about himself in verses 14 to 16. One writer sets them side by side:
In the following verses the Apostle speaks about his debt, and his readiness, to preach... he felt like a man with a debt to pay off. It is a wonderful thing that he can say, "I am a debtor" to the Gentiles; "I am ready" to preach; and "I am not ashamed" of the gospel. "I am a debtor" is the language of someone who found in the gospel the thing that met his own need. He now feels he owes it to others in need, whether among cultivated Greeks or unintelligent barbarians. "I am ready" is the language of someone in the right moral condition to preach. "I am not ashamed" is the language of someone who sees the greatness of the gospel and is bold to proclaim it.
Who counted as a "barbarian"?
The word means "foreigner, alien". The Romans used it for any people who did not understand Latin or Greek. In Romans 1:14 they stand in contrast to the Greeks.
Paul names both ends of the social scale in one breath:
He was debtor to the Greeks — the civilized, the cultured, the artistic, the intellectual. They needed it, and without it they were completely undone. He was debtor to the barbarians too, who were sunk in depravity and sin. They needed it not more than the Greeks, but just as much. So Paul preached as long as God gave him breath.
Later in the letter Paul tells these same readers to keep no debt outstanding except one: love. One writer ties that to the debt Paul owns here.
"Owe no one anything, except to love each other." This is a debt that can never be fully paid up. Paul's knowledge of the gospel and his love for men made him a debtor to Greeks and barbarians, to the wise and the foolish. This is the case, in whatever measure, of all saints.
The very next verse says Paul is ready to preach the gospel at Rome — to people already called saints. One writer notices the wording:
Even the saints there would have been all the better for the gospel. It was not merely "to those at Rome," but "to you that are at Rome." So it is a mistake to think that saints gain nothing from a better understanding of the gospel, at least as Paul preached it. He now tells them why he could speak so strongly, not about the more advanced truths, but about the good news.
Paul's commission was his own. One writer applies the same principle to every Christian.
He felt what every sinner saved by grace should feel — that he was a debtor to all. Owning the gospel makes us debtors to all. He had constantly paid his debt by preaching the gospel to Jews and Gentiles, and now he is eager "to preach the gospel to you also who are in Rome."
Where does the power to pay such a debt come from?
We have a debt to pay, and only the power of the Spirit can enable us to pay it. Paul felt this deeply in Romans 1:14. Romans 15:19 tells how he paid it: "by the power of the Spirit of God... I have fulfilled the ministry of the gospel of Christ." ... We need souls so filled by God with the things we profess to believe that our lips must speak.
- Received. The debt starts with a gift. Paul found in the gospel what met his own need, so he owed it to everyone else in need.
- Owed. Greeks and barbarians, wise and foolish, cover everyone. The cultured needed the gospel just as much as the depraved.
- Ready. "I am a debtor," "I am ready," "I am not ashamed" belong together. The debt puts him in the right condition to preach. The greatness of the gospel makes him bold.
- Unpaid. This is the one debt Paul says can never be settled — the debt of love that stands behind "Owe no one anything, except to love each other."
- Passed on. Every believer who owns the gospel inherits the debt. We pay it the way Paul paid his: with souls so full of what we believe that we must speak.
so, as far as depends on me, am I ready to announce the glad tidings to you also who [are] in Rome.
Paul writes to believers in Rome, a city he had never reached. He is eager to preach the gospel to them — people who already believe it — and God would keep him from that visit for years.
Older translations read "as much as in me is." Paul limits the claim to his own side of the matter. His willingness was total. The timing was not his to arrange.
He longed to see them, that he might impart to them some spiritual gift, so that they might be established... He was under obligation to all nations to bring the grace of God to them; and so, as far as depended on him, he was ready to preach the gospel to them also that were at Rome.
That combination — full readiness with no power to open the door — is held up as a pattern for service.
He could say, "So, as much as in me is, I am ready to preach the gospel to you that are at Rome also." What entire readiness, yet the most real dependence on God alone. If he had been the servant of men, he might have needed a call from them to preach at Rome, or some human appointment. But there is no such thought here. Paul could say, "I am ready." Yes — with the world behind him: "I am ready as soon as my God shall open the way."
The weight falls on the word "you." Paul is not only ready to preach in the city. He is ready to preach the gospel to the Christians already in it.
He was ready, as far as he was concerned, to preach the gospel to those that were at Rome also. Even the saints there would have been all the better for the gospel. It was not merely "to those at Rome," but "to you that are at Rome." So it is a mistake to think that saints cannot gain from a better understanding of the gospel, at least as Paul preached it.
The believers there had a faith known everywhere. Yet something in their foundation was still missing.
The gospel had truly reached souls in that city by other means. Many there had clearly received it as the word of God, since people everywhere spoke of their faith. But something seems to have been missing in them: they were not grounded in "the righteousness of God," the main subject of the letter. So Paul said he was ready to preach to them at Rome as well as to others.
Paul makes three claims in a row here: he is a debtor, he is ready, he is not ashamed. One writer draws out what each one shows.
"I am a debtor" is the language of one who has found in the gospel what meets his own need. He feels he owes the good news to others who are in need, whether among cultivated Greeks or unintelligent Barbarians. "I am ready" is the language of one in right moral condition to preach. "I am not ashamed" is the language of one who, realising the greatness of the gospel, is bold to proclaim it.
Paul never made the journey he was so ready for. God Himself prevented it.
He declares himself a debtor to all the Gentiles, and ready, as far as it depended on him, to preach the gospel to those of Rome also. The apostle claims the whole field of the Gentiles as his own. Yet God kept him from going to Rome until he arrived there at the end of his career — and then only as a prisoner. This is worthy of all attention.
So the visit became a letter. Since he was hindered in body, "he would do it by letter" (F. B. Hole).
Paul was the most gifted of teachers. If he gave himself to plain gospel preaching, no one can call that work beneath them.
Sinners need the gospel for their salvation. Saints need it too, often, to be established... Paul was the most gifted of teachers, yet he threw himself fully into the testimony of the gospel. So how happy, how profitable, how encouraging it would be if every servant of Christ did the same — whatever his gift or his age, showing hearty fellowship with every sincere and godly effort to spread the gospel! ... Disparagement of true gospel work is not of God. It is of Satan.
- Debtor — Paul found in the gospel what met his own need, so he owed it to everyone else, Greek or Barbarian.
- Ready — his part was full willingness. God's part was to open the way, and Paul waited for it, needing no human appointment.
- To you — Paul aimed the gospel at the believers in Rome, not just at the city, because saints gain from understanding it better.
- Hindered — God kept him from Rome until he came as a prisoner. The visit he could not make became this letter.
- Established — sinners need the gospel for salvation, saints for grounding. So belittling gospel work never comes from God.
For I am not ashamed of the glad tidings; for it is God's power to salvation, to every one that believes, both to Jew first and to Greek
Paul wrote to believers in Rome, the capital of the empire. He begins not with sin or judgment but with a claim: this message has the power to save.
The phrase is often read as a claim about Paul's nerve. One writer argues it is a claim about the message itself.
These two verses are the key verses of the letter. They hold the great words of its teaching section: righteousness and faith. It cannot mean, as people often say, that Paul was not ashamed to confess Christ. It means he had complete confidence in the gospel of Christ. He knew it would never make him ashamed. He was not ashamed of it because of what it is in itself. The world sneered at the gospel he preached... He knew the gospel holds the highest wisdom. He knew God Himself is its author, that it came from God and leads to God.
Writing to that city sharpens the word "power." Rome knew all about power, and a comparison is hard to miss.
He was not at all ashamed to speak about the gospel itself, even to people living in Rome. This proud city was the centre of all worldly power, yet the gospel was God's power. Rome's power brought people into its empire by forced submission. God's power saved every believer through the gospel. It brought them into His kingdom and under His rule in grace.
Notice how often the little phrase "of God" is repeated in these opening verses. That repetition is deliberate, and it is aimed at a habit deep in every human heart.
See how the apostle presents everything as coming from God. It is the gospel of God, the power of God for salvation, the righteousness of God, and even the wrath of God. That wrath comes from heaven. It is not the same as punishment on earth. This is the key to everything. The apostle stresses it and puts it first, right at the start of the letter. Man always leans toward confidence in himself. He wants to boast of himself and to find some merit, some righteousness, in himself, as though he could do something. It was the apostle's joy to put his God forward.
If salvation is God's power, then everything moves one way: from God to man.
In verse 16 the apostle began to show the character of the gospel. It is God Himself, acting with power when man is completely lost. So where the gospel comes, God no longer asks anything from man. He does not demand works to put things right between man and God. God acts; His power is working for the benefit of man. Not to help him, but to save him, for this power is for salvation.
Salvation comes "to everyone who believes." So does faith add something to the work? One writer says it does the opposite.
Man came into it by faith. It was the believer who shared it. But sharing it by faith was the one way to share it without adding anything at all, and to leave it wholly the salvation of God. God be praised that it is so, whether for righteousness or for power, or for the whole result. That is what makes it perfect and divine.
The verses that follow tell us what the danger is, and so define what "salvation" means here.
Yet again and again Scripture shows that salvation does mean being spared and rescued from the wrath of God. The gospel is "the power of God for salvation to everyone who believes... for the wrath of God is revealed from heaven" (Rom. 1:16-18). A little later in the same epistle we read, "we shall be saved by Him from the wrath of God" (Rom. 5:9).
The verse names an order: the Jew first, then the Greek — that is, everyone else. But it does not create two classes of saved people.
God's power was there to save. It took man up in his need and sin, not in his titles or claims, even ones God had given him. It reached a lost Gentile just as it reached a lost Jew. It was for "everyone who believes" — the way of it was faith; the order of it recognised God's ways. It was "to the Jew first, and also to the Greek." But this did not alter its character; it was salvation for a sinful Jew, who had to come in by mercy, just like a Gentile.
Power that produces nothing is not power. That test falls on preacher and hearer alike.
Those who preach should look for clear results. Those who hear should ask whether the gospel has made a great change in them. Why has it not? Because they have not believed... the way of salvation is not just hearing about Christ. It is believing on Christ. It is not simply knowing the plan of salvation, as some say. It is coming to Christ to be saved.
- Confidence — Paul's "not ashamed" is not bravery under mockery but trust in a message whose author is God.
- Power — the word answers Rome's empire. One power forces people to submit; the other saves. Everything here comes from God, not man.
- Faith — believing is the one way in, because it adds nothing and leaves the salvation wholly God's.
- Reach — the same power meets Jew and Greek as equally lost; the order of preaching differs, the terms never do.
- Result — real power leaves evidence. The honest question is not whether you know the message, but whether you have come to Christ.
for righteousness of God is revealed therein, on the principle of faith, to faith according as it is written, But the just shall live by faith.
Paul has just said he is not ashamed of the gospel because it is God's power to save. Verse 17 tells us why. Everything turns on one phrase: a righteousness that is God's own, revealed on the principle of faith.
The gospel reveals many things about God. Here Paul speaks of one quality — the very one a guilty person fears most.
Thirdly, the reason it is God's power to save everyone who believes is that "in it the righteousness of God is revealed". If there is no righteous way for man to be saved, there can be no salvation for man... It is true that in the gospel we see the love, and grace, and mercy of God revealed. But the Apostle does not speak of these blessed qualities in this passage. He speaks of the righteousness of God... The sinner does not fear the love, or grace, or mercy of God; but he fears the righteousness of God must be against him... But suppose you can tell the sinner this: the very quality in God that he dreads most — God's righteousness — is the very quality that is for him, not against him. That will indeed be good news.
The whole force of the verse rests on the little word "God's." One writer sets it against what the law required:
Next, notice that it is God's righteousness, not man's — divine righteousness revealed in the gospel, not human righteousness required in the law. There is no question here either of infusion or of imputation. Infusion is completely wrong. Imputation is a precious truth, and Romans 4 presses it: there the apostle shows from the case of Abraham that the believer's faith is counted for (or as) righteousness.
Another puts the same distinction plainly: man has no righteousness to offer.
It is not righteousness of man, for he has none. How can he have any if he is guilty — under judgment? And if he had, it would be righteousness of man, not of God.
So the word describes something true of God Himself. It is not a standard He hands out.
It is not human righteousness, which would have come by the law. It is God's own righteousness. It is not man being consistent with the relationships God placed him in as a creature. It is God being consistent with His own nature and character, whether He had revealed that character before or not. It is God being consistent with Himself when He takes up the place of Justifier of ungodly sinners.
Commentators differ over how far the language of imputation fits here. Kelly calls imputation a precious truth taught in Romans 4. Another writer notes that Romans 4 speaks of righteousness counted to the believer, but never calls it God's righteousness (C. E. Stuart).
One writer traces this revelation to the cross and to what came after it:
On the cross Christ was made sin for us, and there bore all the believer's sins. In this position He perfectly glorified God... God has revealed His righteousness by giving Christ, who glorified Him, a place with Himself in divine glory.
The two halves of the phrase do two different jobs — one shuts a door, the other opens one.
The first of these phrases, "from faith," excludes the law; the second, "to faith," brings everyone who has faith within the scope of God's righteousness... God reveals His righteousness from faith. So if there is faith in any soul, He reveals it to that faith, wherever it may be. It was therefore in no way limited to one nation.
A second writer draws out what each mention of faith stands against:
The righteousness which the law demanded from men was to be by (or, on the principle of) works. Faith reaches the righteousness of God which the Gospel reveals. Again, the Gospel reveals God's righteousness to faith, while the law revealed all it brought to sight. The first occurrence of the word, faith, stands in contrast to works, the second to sight.
The same line from Habakkuk 2:4 appears in three letters, with the emphasis on a different word each time. (The ESV reads, "The righteous shall live by faith." The writers quoted here use the older wording, "the just.")
Romans dwells on the truth of justification, and so emphasizes "the just." Galatians deals with living the Christian life by faith and not by works of law, and so emphasizes "shall live." Hebrews emphasizes the means — "by faith."
The quotation is not only about being declared righteous. It also shapes the life that follows: "the believer must prove by a life of faith that he has this righteousness" (H. L. Rossier).
- Revealed, not required. The law demanded righteousness from man. The gospel reveals a righteousness that is God's own.
- Revealed as good news. The quality the guilty fear most is the very one the gospel shows to be on their side.
- Revealed in Christ. God shows His righteousness by giving Christ, who glorified Him at the cross, a place in divine glory.
- Revealed by faith, to faith. "By faith" rules out law and works; "to faith" reaches anyone who believes, of any nation.
- Revealed, then lived. Habakkuk's word settles who is just, and then calls that person to live by faith.
For there is revealed wrath of God from heaven upon all impiety, and unrighteousness of men holding the truth in unrighteousness.
Paul has just announced God's righteousness in the gospel, and here he gives the reason it was needed. Two questions follow: what makes this wrath different from God's earlier judgments, and who stands under it?
Two things are now made known, and commentators are careful not to blur them.
This is what made the gospel so sweet and precious, and, what is more, absolutely necessary, if he would escape certain and eternal ruin. There is no hope for man otherwise; for the gospel is not all that is now made known. Not only is God's righteousness revealed, but also His wrath. It is not said to be revealed in the gospel. The gospel means His glad tidings for man. The wrath of God could not possibly be glad tidings. It is not yet carried out. It is "revealed," and this too "from heaven"… So it is in view of eternal things, not of the things that touch present life on earth.
The phrase marks a shift away from the visible, national judgments of the past.
It is not governmental wrath, such as bringing the Assyrian against Israel, or leading them captive to Babylon — a thing of this world, while God was hidden still behind the veil. It tells us that God's nature cannot live with evil. God's wrath was revealed against everything that does not fit His nature — wrath from heaven against all ungodliness. And where the truth was known, so that men might seem nearer to God, as the Jews were, wrath was against them too if they held that truth in unrighteousness.
The sentence has not fallen yet, and still nothing about it is left in doubt:
Notice, the wrath is revealed, not hidden, and the revelation is just as complete as if He were sitting on the great white throne.
Commentators differ on how to read the sentence. Some see two groups named, divided by where the comma falls:
It appears to me that the usual punctuation here spoils the sense. As I understand it, the force is this: "all ungodliness, and unrighteousness of men that hold the truth in unrighteousness." This is a most important distinction. It brings in the whole Gentile world as guilty, as the apostle proves later… So we have two great classes: ungodliness everywhere, and unrighteousness of men who hold the truth in unrighteousness.
Others find one charge here, not two groups:
If one can find a person who has no truth to hold, he cannot come under this revealed wrath. "Impiety" is what men are condemned for: a heart away from God, and so it misuses whatever truth it has. That is the charge; and it is broad enough to cover the whole race of fallen man. There are not two classes in this statement, as some have thought.
Kelly reads "hold the truth in unrighteousness" as holding it firmly. He rejects the newer "hold down" and "hinder" — the sense the ESV carries with "suppress":
Firm orthodoxy may go together with a life that disregards righteousness. Holding truth down hardly makes sense. Hindering it adds no worthwhile idea to the phrase. Holding the truth is a solemn warning for professing Christians now, as it once was for Jews.
On that reading, correct belief is no shelter:
To hold the truth in unrighteousness would be no security… A man may know God's revealed mind exactly. But if that knowledge brings no renewal of the heart, if it leaves him without life towards God, it must all be worthless. A man is only so much the worse for knowing the truth, if he holds it ever so firmly along with unrighteousness.
Verse 18 states the charge; the rest of the chapter supplies the evidence.
About the Gentiles, the apostle gives two reasons for this wrath. First, the testimony of creation (vv. 19, 20). Second, that they knew God and did not wish to keep Him in their knowledge, but preferred idolatry (vv. 21-24)… This does not mean that they knew God as He is in His nature. It means they should have known Him as Creator. Unless a person is blind, a Creator is seen in the creation.
- Revealed — God announces this wrath now and has not yet carried it out. The announcement is as full as the final judgment seat itself.
- From heaven — not a blow on earth like the Assyrian invasion or the exile. This is God's own nature, which cannot live with evil.
- Against all — every sort of ungodliness falls under it. Commentators differ over whether Paul names two classes or one charge wide enough for the whole race.
- Held, not just heard — truth held firmly, alongside unrighteous living, brings no safety. The older reading warns those who hold right doctrine; newer versions render the phrase "suppress."
- Without excuse — creation gave its testimony, and men still refused to keep God in their knowledge. This is why the gospel's righteousness of God was needed.
Because what is known of God is manifest among them, for God has manifested [it] to them,
God's anger against ungodliness is not random, and this verse says why: God did not hide Himself from people — He showed them what could be known of Him. So two questions follow: what could people know, and how did God show it?
Verse 19 opens the long section where Paul proves human guilt. One writer compares it to a light carried into a filthy room:
The Spirit of God brings this unrighteousness and ungodliness fully into the open from Romans 1:19 to 3:20. This is the part where God's "light" comes in and shows all that we are by nature. It is like carrying a light into a dark room full of every kind of filth and corruption. While the room is dark you see nothing of what is inside. Bring the light in, and it shows all the filth and dirt that are there. From verse 19 to the end of chapter 1 we find the dreadful state of the pagan world described. It shows that they should have known God's eternal power and divine nature from the things He made.
The phrase does not mean the knowledge people already had. Commentators differ over whether it points inward, to self-knowledge. Kelly argues that the evidence stood outside people, in plain view:
"What can be known" of Him means the knowable rather than the known. The evidence was full and clear, but their eyes were dull… If the verse appealed to self-knowledge, as many think, it seems to me it would have used the word for inward knowledge, and the reflexive pronoun as well. This was knowledge of an outward kind, lying open in the middle of them all. The words that follow confirm it — "for God has shown it to them," not the work of conscience, which has its proper place in Romans 2.
The next verse answers the "how". God put His power on display in the things He made, and even a famous thinker of the ancient world had to admit it:
People have perceived His invisible things — not all of them, of course, but His eternal power and divinity — ever since the creation of the world. The mind grasps them through His works. The things He made stood before every eye, and they did produce convictions far above the ordinary run of human thought… Even the famous ancient thinker who allowed only what he could observe could not write his book on the world without stating that "God, though He is invisible to every mortal being, is seen from the works themselves."
The evidence was hard to miss. One writer says the fault was not a misreading of it:
Creation lies open for everyone to see, and it is full of signs of God… Notice that what we must charge man with is not merely a misreading of the evidence, but a wholesale rejection of it. You would think there was little room for mistake — unless the hearts of men really wanted some other meaning. Yet that is exactly where the fault lies. They would gladly credit anyone or anything but Him with the glory of such work.
This means the religious history of mankind runs downhill, not uphill:
Those peoples that are now heathen once knew God. Man's course has not been from many gods up to one God, as some dreamers would have us imagine, but the other way round. They have sunk out of light into the darkness.
The witness of the created world takes away excuses. It does not do more than that:
Nothing here suggests that creation bore witness to the gospel, or that it revealed God as He is in His nature. It witnessed to the Creator. Yet man, instead of turning to the Creator through this witness, turned away from Him… Rejecting the witness of creation leaves man without excuse, even if he has never heard the gospel.
So the verse points beyond itself. Sinful people need more than evidence of a Maker:
The testimony of creation leaves man without excuse, but it does not bring him the knowledge of God. Creation shows God's power, but God Himself is known only in the Person of the Son. Man is a sinner, held at a distance from God by sin. To claim to worship God and share His company in the works of His hands ignores man's sinful condition, his guilt, and his need of salvation.
- Shown — God did not stay silent. He set what could be known of Him before every eye in the things He made.
- Knowable — The word means what could be known, not what was known. The evidence was clear; human eyes were dull.
- Rejected — People did not misread the evidence. They threw it out, and gave the glory to anything but God.
- Downward — The result is a fall out of light into darkness, not a climb from many gods up to one.
- Not enough — Creation shows a Creator and leaves everyone without excuse. It never preaches the gospel. God Himself is known only in the Son.
-- for from [the] world's creation the invisible things of him are perceived, being apprehended by the mind through the things that are made, both his eternal power and divinity, -- so as to render them inexcusable.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Because, knowing God, they glorified [him] not as God, neither were thankful; but fell into folly in their thoughts, and their heart without understanding was darkened
Paul has just argued that creation leaves people without excuse. He now goes further: men once knew God and let that knowledge slip, so how did a race that knew God end up worshipping images?
The charge is not that people failed to work out God from evidence. A real knowledge of God, passed down from the past, is in view here. Idolatry only shows up later in the story.
The ground here is not what could be known but what was actually known… A knowledge of God handed down from the past is in question. This knowledge of God belonged to man even after the flood; in fact, not until after that great event do we hear of idolatry. But man was not equal to the task of guarding what God had entrusted to him, and this was because of his moral state. When they did know God, they did not glorify Him as God, and they were not thankful. That left room for empty reasonings, which darkened the heart instead of leading it into light. It was the self-sufficiency, and so the folly, of the creature. Light is only seen in God's light, and man must sink into darkness when he is not lifted up morally by looking to One above him.
This knowledge leaves a person guilty; it does not save. One writer draws the line: it is "not the conscious, living knowledge that comes only from new birth, but the clear evidential knowledge that makes their guilt inexcusable" (L. M. Grant).
Popular accounts of religion move upward — from crude superstition toward one God. The verse reverses that direction.
Those peoples who are pagan today once knew God. Man's course has not been from many gods to one God, as some dreamers would have us imagine, but the other way round. They have sunk out of light into the darkness. Once "they knew God" (v. 21), but the fact is, "they did not see fit to acknowledge God" (v. 28).
Not giving thanks sounds like a small charge beside idolatry. One writer treats it as the point where men lost the light.
It is a great favour to the creature to be given a little light about the blessed God. That is what lifts man above the level of the beast. And how thankful the creature should be for that light! Where a man values the light, he thanks God for it. Where he gives God no thanks, it is a sure sign that he despises the light, and he will soon lose it.
The darkening is not a mood or a misfortune. In Scripture it names one specific loss, and it grows alongside a rising opinion of one's own cleverness.
They did not glorify God in His works, and they did not thank Him for His mercies in this life. So they lost the knowledge of God they had. They refused the witness of Creation and fell back, as men are doing today, on their own imaginations. In this way their foolish heart was darkened — that is, they lost the knowledge of God. In Scripture, moral darkness is always ignorance of God, just as light is the knowledge of God. The more foolish they became, the more they claimed to be wise; and the more they claimed to be wise, the bigger fools they became.
That rules out the excuse that people never had a chance. Men made this darkness; they did not inherit it.
For instance, people often speak of pagan peoples as groping after the light and unable to find it. They treat it as their misfortune, not their sin, because circumstances too hard for them hold them down. Now that is not so… That was the beginning of paganism. This is man, not seeking God, but trying to escape from God — and he has escaped, so to speak, into the darkness. The darkness is the darkness of resisted light, not the absence of light.
This pattern is not locked in ancient history. One writer traces the same line in a soul that stops giving thanks.
The apostle gives it as a special mark of the corruption of the nations that "although they knew God, they did not honor him as God or give thanks to him." Then comes the practical result of this unthankful spirit… The heart that stops keeping a thankful sense of God's goodness will soon become "dark."… This is the line a soul out of fellowship with God will travel. It first loses the sense of being in God's hands for good, and in the end begins to think itself in His hands for evil.
- Known. Their guilt rests on a knowledge of God that men once had and failed to keep. It was evidence they could see, not the knowledge that comes by new birth.
- Unthanked. A man who values the light thanks God for it. A man who gives no thanks despises it, and will soon lose it.
- Darkened. A darkened heart has lost the knowledge of God. This darkness is resisted light: man running from God, not groping for Him.
- Downward. The history of religion runs the opposite way to the popular story. Man did not climb from many gods to one God; he sank out of light into darkness.
- Today. The same slope runs under any heart that stops giving thanks. It first loses the sense of being in God's hands for good, then imagines itself in His hands for evil.
professing themselves to be wise, they became fools,
Romans 1 does not say that people never knew God. It says they turned away from Him while praising their own cleverness — and this short verse is where their claim meets the verdict.
One writer traces the spiral. What they lost was a knowledge of God they once had.
They did not glorify God in His works. They did not thank God for the good things He gave them in this life. So they lost the knowledge of God they once had. They refused the witness of creation and fell back on their own imaginations, as men are doing today. So their foolish heart grew dark — that is, they lost the knowledge of God. In Scripture, moral darkness is always ignorance of God, just as light is the knowledge of God. The more foolish they became, the more they claimed to be wise. And the more they claimed to be wise, the bigger fools they became.
The very reasoning that darkened them was the thing they held up as insight. That is what makes the profession itself part of the evidence against them.
The inward reasonings of their minds, because bent on following their own wills, dragged them into folly; and their hearts, wilfully without understanding, were coloured by the darkness they chose. What is more, the very reasonings that led them into that darkness they claimed as wisdom! — a claim which all the more thoroughly declared them fools. This was their development — or evolution, if you will — "they became fools."
One writer names the motive behind it all.
The root cause of their fall was that they did not want to give God the glory that was His due, because they wanted to pose as wise themselves — as we see in verses 21 and 22. In short, pride was the root, and God has allowed them to make fools of themselves.
These people did not lack evidence. They had a knowledge of God handed down to them, and they failed to keep it:
A traditional knowledge of God is in question… the outward knowledge of God spoken of here still belonged to man after the flood. In fact we do not hear of idolatry until after that great event. But man was not equal to the task of keeping this holy trust, and the reason lay in his moral state. When they did know God, they neither glorified Him as such, nor were they thankful. That left room for empty reasonings, which then darkened the heart instead of leading it into light. It was the self-sufficiency, and so the folly, of the creature. Light is only seen in God's light. Unless a man looks up to One above him and is lifted, he must sink into darkness.
Read as history, the verse points the opposite way from the usual story of human progress.
They knew God and did not glorify Him. They turned away from the light. Here is the true law of evolution. It is not an evolution upward, as so many teach today, but an evolution downward. The ascent of man is a delusion; the descent of man is the truth. Man has fallen so low, yes, below the beast. The only thing that can lift him is the gospel of Jesus Christ… The next step down is that they claimed to be wise and became fools. They rejected the light and turned away from God. So they became philosophers and tried to find things out by searching.
The fall came step by step, under God's own government:
Their descent has been gradual. First came empty thinking. Then came darkened understanding and gross idolatry. Then came outrageous sins, in which they fell below the level of the beasts. Each generation went beyond the follies of those before them, and so approved for themselves the turning away that had gone before. All this happened under the government of God… If men object to thinking of God and give Him up, they have no ground of complaint when He gives them up. There is an ironic justice about God's government.
One writer applies the verse to his own day, and to any age that sets human intellect against God.
The intellect of our own day leads many astray who claim to be wise. It is only one of the many forms of human perverseness that set themselves up against God. It may be more refined, but its opposition is no less determined than in those who attack God's declared will because He has not written it across the sky… So philosophical explanations of Christianity have arisen. They are all only attempts of man to reach the mysterious doctrine of the cross by human reasoning. That doctrine is either never reached, or, if it is seen, it stays what it has always been — "foolishness."
- Cause — pride. Men wanted the credit of wisdom and refused God the glory He was owed. That refusal, not a lack of evidence, is the root of the fall.
- Effect — darkness. Cut off from God's light, their reasoning gave them no light. Left to itself, the creature can only sink.
- Claim — self-flattery. The claim to wisdom is not the cure for folly. It is part of it. The emptier they grew, the wiser they claimed to be.
- Direction — downward. The verse charts a descent, not a rise. Each generation outdid the follies of the last, and God gave up the men who first gave Him up.
- Remedy — the gospel. Man has fallen too far to reason his way back up. Only the gospel of Jesus Christ lifts him.
and changed the glory of the incorruptible God into [the] likeness of an image of corruptible man and of birds and quadrupeds and reptiles.
Idolatry begins with a trade, not with ignorance. The people here knew God and swapped His glory for images of their own making — so how does anyone fall that far?
The exchange needed something to trade away. These men had real knowledge of God and let it go.
They did not glorify God in His works. They did not thank Him for the mercies of this life. So they lost the knowledge of God that they had. Refusing the witness of creation, they fell back, as men are doing today, on their own imaginations. So their foolish heart grew dark — that is, they lost the knowledge of God. In Scripture, moral darkness is always ignorance of God, just as light is the knowledge of God. The more foolish they became, the more they claimed to be wise. And the more they claimed to be wise, the bigger fools they became.
Religion did not climb from crude beginnings toward better ideas of God. This verse records a fall from light.
They knew God and did not glorify Him. They turned away from the light. Here is the true law of evolution — not an evolution upward, as is taught so much today, but an evolution downward. The ascent of man is a delusion; the descent of man is the truth. The only possible way of lifting man, who has fallen so low, yes, beneath the beast, is the gospel of Jesus Christ.
An idol is not an accident of ignorance. It answers a craving — and it answers it on man's own terms.
Deep down, man knows he is not enough on his own. That awareness leaves him unable to stand independent of some power mightier than himself. A god of some kind is a natural necessity for man. His natural desire, in his first turning away from truth, is a god after his own heart. The image of himself is the outward expression of this.
The list in the verse is not random. Each step is lower than the last.
Notice the order here. Idolatry makes progress, but it is progress in degradation. First they make a god out of man, who was himself made in the image of God. Then come birds of the air, and four-footed beasts, and down to the grovelling, creeping insects. Each step shows the progress of degradation. Look at the magnificent temples of Egypt, where architecture reached its peak. Grand avenues lead up to great temples with their outer court and inner sanctuary. But enthroned in the innermost room of all this magnificence sits a hideous beetle, a creeping thing — as though Satan delighted to insult God by such a likeness.
The creatures are ranked by how far each one gets off the ground.
Birds fly through the air, so they were thought to be nearer heaven, and they are put above the four-footed beasts, which walk on the earth. The creeping things, which cannot rise out of the dust and mud of the earth, are the lowest form of all.
What a man bows to, he becomes. Not even learning stops the slide.
Their ideas of deity, under the deceptive influence of Satan, sank lower and lower... It was not naked savages who plunged deeper and deeper into this pit of folly. The ancient kingdoms of Babylon, Assyria and Egypt, among others, had much learning. Men cannot rise morally above the level of the gods they worship. So beast-worshippers soon became beastly themselves in practice.
Set against all this is what the idolater threw away. Where ESV says "immortal God" and "mortal man," older translations read "incorruptible" and "corruptible." Nothing about God fades, spoils or changes.
How blessed it is when the Holy Spirit reminds us that the One whom we worship is "the incorruptible God" (Rom. 1:23)... His word, His promise, His glory — yes, He Himself — remain incorruptible.
That word "corruptible" is the verdict on the whole race. One Man alone stands outside it.
The theme of the gospel is "the Man Christ Jesus," the One whom Psalm 16 describes as not seeing corruption... His conception was holy. His life was sinless through and through. He was not only without blemish; He picked up no stain along His path.
- Exchange — Idolatry is not a first step toward God. It is a trade away from Him: men who knew God stopped glorifying and thanking Him, and lost what they had.
- Descent — The order in the verse is a staircase going down: man, birds, beasts, creeping things. Religion here evolves, but always downward.
- Self — A god of some sort is a necessity to man, so he makes one after his own heart, and the image of himself is the first result.
- Reflex — No one rises above the god he worships. Degrade God to a beast, and the worshipper turns beastly. Learning gives no protection: Egypt and Babylon had deep learning of their own.
- Remedy — The God they traded away cannot decay. The only lift for corruptible man is the gospel of the one Man who saw no corruption.
Wherefore God gave them up [also] in the lusts of their hearts to uncleanness, to dishonour their bodies between themselves
Paul has just described a race that knew God, refused to honour Him, and swapped His glory for images. Verse 24 is the turning point. It is the first of three moments when God steps back and lets people have what they insisted on wanting.
The verse opens by pointing back. Every horror that follows is an answer to something people did first.
Their plight has been reached under the government of God. Three times over we get the phrase, with slight variations: "God gave them up to…". If men object to thinking of God and give Him up, they have no ground of complaint when He gives them up. And if they give up God, and so give up good, they find themselves given up to everything evil and degrading. There is an ironic justice about God's government.
The phrase does not mean God pushed anyone into sin.
So God gave them up to reap as they had sown. It is not that He made them sin (God forbid the thought!). He simply dropped the reins on man's neck, so that what was in sinful man's heart might come out — in my heart, reader, and yours. So we find that sin ruined men's bodies (v. 24), their affections (v. 26), and their minds (v. 28).
Was this coldness on God's part? What came before it gives the answer.
"Therefore God gave them up" — not that He was indifferent. His appeals through their intelligence and conscience had no effect on their determined course of evil… Man will reap the bitter fruits of refusing the place of dependence on God. His evil shows itself more and more in ways he once would have found horrible and detestable. Then he will say, "I can't help myself." In this he speaks the truth. But why does he not also confess the truth about how this shameful state began?… For only God can protect a soul against evil. If a man ignores Him, there is no predicting the depths of man's wickedness.
The punishment fits the crime. Men designed gods to their own taste.
Their lusts had turned them away from the true God; now the false gods they had set up to suit their own tastes approved and encouraged their lusts. God gave them up to their lusts, and they at once went on to dishonour their own bodies, just as they had already dishonoured God.
Behind the physical ruin lies a lie about who the creature is.
If the soul abandons the truth of God, everything is wrong, whatever appearances may say for the moment. This was the great falsehood. Not to be in dependence and obedience is to be false to the relationship of a creature. Yet there is a step still further down in evil — giving to the creature the honour that belongs to God alone.
The wreckage here is not only a warning of a reckoning to come. It is a sentence God is carrying out now.
Verses 24 and 25 display the punishment, even now, of God the Holy One on His debased image. Filth and dishonour are the unchecked and ripened fruit of the lusts of nature. Man had chosen those lusts as his guide, in preference to the will of God… The creature is utterly debased, and that through the working out of its own will. This is the sentence of divine wisdom on the self-dishonoured work of His hands.
Some read this verse as a defence: if God abandoned them, how are they to blame?
It is true that God has given men over to the vices they love. In His governmental dealings He does this because they have turned away from Him and have chosen to indulge their lusts. But despite this, they still have by nature a sense of the justice of God in sentencing them to death… So no one can excuse himself or his sins in the court of God by pleading that God has given him over to judicial blindness.
Nothing in this decline fixes itself. Only one way out is left.
Savagery was the result of man's departure from God. God did not create man in that condition… So man's condition is degraded, whether as a savage or as an idolater. Nothing can bring him out of it but the converting power of the grace of God.
- Given up, given up. Men gave God up first; God then gave them up. The whole verse is one word answering another.
- Reins dropped. God did not make anyone sin. He let go of the restraint, and what came out was already in the heart.
- Gods to taste. They built gods that approved their desires — so their religion approved their ruin.
- Sentence now. The filth is not just leading to judgment; it is judgment falling now, in this life.
- One exit. Being given up excuses nobody. Nothing lifts a man out of it except the converting power of God's grace.
who changed the truth of God into falsehood, and honoured and served the creature more than him who had created [it], who is blessed for ever. Amen.
This verse names the swap at the heart of idolatry: God's truth traded for a lie, His honour handed to the things He made. Paul cannot describe it without stopping to bless the God who was robbed.
The fall happens in two steps. One writer traces both, and names who took them first:
If the soul abandons the truth of God, all is wrong, whatever appearances may say for the present. This was the great falsehood. Not to be in dependence and obedience is to be false to the relationship of a creature. Yet there is a step still further down in evil — giving to the creature the honour that belongs to God only. This is exactly what Satan did, and in this same order. He was a liar from the beginning. He did not stand in the truth, for there was no truth in him. Fallen man does his own will and so is the slave of Satan. It may be in lusts, or in a religion of his own imagining. The one plainly degrades him; the other promises to lift him up.
Most people would say they worship nothing at all. This verse leaves no middle ground.
Man may dare to think he is neutral, with no interest in God either way. But that very attitude accuses God of lying. If God's testimony is true, neutrality is impossible. It is a deliberate rejection of the truth of God, even when it is silent — treating that truth as a lie. A man may speak of his neutrality with great pride and self-satisfaction. But if he does not worship the Creator, he worships the creature in some way — even if that creature is himself.
Why does dropping the true God not end worship? The need to lean on something stays, and man fills it to his own taste.
However, man is not enough for himself. He must have someone to lean on, someone to look to in his misery and weakness. So having rejected the true God, and become a fool, he goes on to fashion false gods according to his own tastes. First they thought of God as like corruptible men. Then their thoughts of God sank lower, and they imagined Him to be like birds or four-footed beasts. At last they reached the lowest depth of degradation, when they thought of God as like the creeping things — the serpents. So the worship of the serpent proved how thoroughly man had fallen from God to the devil.
Verse 24 says God gave these men up. Writers read that as justice, not cruelty.
Three times we get the phrase, with slight variations: "God gave them up to…" If men refuse to think about God and give Him up, they have no ground of complaint when He gives them up. And if they give up God, and so give up good, they find themselves given up to everything that is evil and degrading. There is an ironic justice about God's government.
Man does not rise to the level of what he bows to. He drops beneath it:
They changed the truth of God into a lie. In place of the Creator they set up the creature as an object of worship. So God lets them fall beneath the creatures they worshipped. Men sank below the beasts. A beast is not a moral creature. But a man degraded to the level of a beast becomes immoral. His affections become corrupted and turned from their natural course into what is contrary to nature.
Paul's closing words — "who is blessed forever! Amen" — answer the whole charge. What men refuse Him on earth He receives anyway:
It is very blessed to know that heaven will acknowledge and worship God as the Creator of the universe, however much men blaspheme and deny Him on earth. The day is not far away when men will do more than worship and serve the creature above the Creator. They will openly deny the only Lord God, and our Lord Jesus Christ.
The same principle works where no carved image is in sight. (The writer quotes an older translation: "changed the truth of God into a lie.")
The world we are passing through is marked more and more by uncleanness and materialism. The hideous features named in Romans 1 are showing themselves everywhere. Men are busy turning "the truth of God into a lie." The principle of worshipping and serving "the creature more than the Creator" shows itself in the materialistic cult that is gaining such headway.
- Exchange. Truth swapped for a lie. First man refuses to depend on God. Then he hands God's honour to something made.
- Imitation. The order of that fall copies Satan, who did not stand in the truth and was a liar from the beginning.
- Substitute. Man cannot live without a god. Reject the true One and he makes gods to fit his own tastes — down to the serpent.
- Recompense. Because men gave God up, God gave them up — and they fell below the creatures they had worshipped.
- Unshaken. Denied on earth, the Creator is still "blessed forever," and heaven will worship Him as such.
For this reason God gave them up to vile lusts; for both their females changed the natural use into that contrary to nature;
Verse 26 does not start a new subject. It draws a line from what people worshipped to what they became, and the connection is treated as a fixed rule rather than an accident of history.
Under the moral judgment of God, idolatry always ends in complete uncleanness among its followers. It shows itself in every variety. Perhaps it is clearest, as a divine retribution, among those who set up the human form — "corruptible man." But it was certainly not absent where they worshipped what is beneath man: birds, four-footed animals, and reptiles, alone or in combination.
The phrase raises the sharpest question in the verse: did God push people into sin? One writer answers it head on.
So God gave them up to reap what they had sown. He did not make them sin (God forbid the thought!). He threw the reins on man's neck, so that what was in sinful man's heart might come out — in my heart, reader, and in yours. So we find that sin ruined men's bodies (v. 24), their affections (v. 26), and their minds (v. 28). Three times it says that God gave them up, and three times the solemn result is stated.
The order matters, and one writer finds a rough justice in it.
Their condition has been reached under the government of God. Three times over we get the phrase, with slight variations: "God gave them up to…" Do men object to thinking about God and give Him up? Then they have no ground for complaint when He gives them up. And if they give up God, they give up good along with Him. Naturally they find themselves given up to everything evil and degrading. There is an ironic justice about God's government.
One writer traces the change against nature back to what these people had chosen to worship.
They changed the truth of God into a lie. In place of the Creator they set up the creature as an object of worship. So they are allowed to fall beneath the very creatures they worshipped. Men sank below the beasts. It has been truly said that a beast is not a moral creature. But a man degraded to the level of a beast becomes immoral. His affections grow corrupt and turn from their natural course into what is contrary to nature.
Paul's choice of words is deliberate, and one commentator draws attention to it in his own rendering of verses 26 and 27.
This is a vivid but very grave sketch of a humiliating picture. The classical writers fill in that picture in a very different tone, for "the unjust knows no shame." The women come first, since the shamelessness was most apparent there, and human depravity proved most complete and hopeless. The apostle does not even dignify them with the names men and women. He calls them "females" and "males" — though they were the greatest and highest: the sages of the earth, monarchs, conquerors, poets, philosophers and the rest. Their ways were below the animals. God gave them up, and even now they bear the fitting reward of their deeds.
The three surrenders touch the whole person, and they reach far beyond the ancient world.
Man is made up of body, soul and spirit. The first giving up concerns the body; this is found in verses 24-25. Then He gave them up to vile passions. This concerns the soul, and the horrible things in verses 26-27 are the results. People practised them openly in the Greek and Roman world in the days of the Apostle Paul. Ancient literature bears plenty of witness to that. These vile things are still going on in heathen India, China, Africa and elsewhere. They appear within Christendom too. Whenever and wherever people abandon the truth of God, degradation of every kind follows. Only the truth of God can restrain evil.
- Cause. The verse points backwards. Idolatry is the root, and uncleanness is its certain fruit under God's moral judgment.
- Exchange. People swapped the Creator for the creature, so they sank beneath the creatures they worshipped. A beast is not a moral creature; a man dragged down to that level becomes immoral.
- Surrender. "God gave them up" is not God causing sin; it is God dropping the reins, letting what is already in the human heart come out.
- Justice. Men gave God up first. His giving them up answers theirs, and their shame is already the fitting reward of their deeds.
- Reach. Body, affections, mind — the three surrenders cover the whole person. Wherever people abandon the truth of God, even inside Christendom, the same degradation returns.
and in like manner the males also, leaving the natural use of the female, were inflamed in their lust towards one another; males with males working shame, and receiving in themselves the recompense of their error which was fit.
The chapter traces a world sliding away from the God it once knew, and this verse sits near the bottom of that slide. Why does God step back, and is there a way back for people already receiving in themselves the due penalty for their error?
This verse names the end of a road, not a single wrong turn.
Their descent has been gradual. First came empty thinking. Then darkened understanding. Then gross idolatry. Then outrageous sins, in which they fell below the level of the beasts. Each generation went beyond the follies of the one before it, and so confirmed for themselves the earlier departure.
Three times in this passage God hands men over to what they chose.
Man had given up God; now we have the statement, repeated three times, "God gave them up". In the government of God He lets men reap what they sow. Their lusts had turned them away from the true God. Now the false gods they had set up to suit their own tastes approved and encouraged those lusts. God gave them up to their lusts. At once they went on to dishonour their own bodies, just as they had already dishonoured God.
This handing over is not God making men sin. One writer says what it is instead, and then turns it on his reader.
God gave them up to reap as they had sown. He did not make them sin — God forbid the thought! He dropped the reins on man's neck, just so that what was in sinful man's heart might come out — in my heart, reader, and in yours.
Idolatry had already turned the order of things upside down. This verse shows where that ends.
They had exchanged the truth of God for a lie. They had set up the creature in place of the Creator as an object of worship. So God let them fall beneath the creatures they worshipped. Men sank below the beasts. People have rightly said that a beast is not a moral creature. But a man dragged down to the level of a beast becomes immoral. His affections are corrupted and turned aside from their natural course into what is contrary to nature.
Notice who Paul is describing here, and what he refuses to call them.
The apostle will not call them men and women — though they were the greatest and highest, the wise men of the earth, monarchs, conquerors, poets and philosophers. He calls them "females" and "males", marked by ways below the brute, given up by God, and even now bearing the fitting reward of their deeds.
The penalty is not all in the future. Part of it arrives inside the sinner now.
The things spoken of here are plainly the "recompense", even now, of the creature's error in departing from the Creator. So the world lies under a judicial bondage of sin and dishonour. Men eat the fruit of their own ways. That fruit sometimes pleases the depraved taste of a corrupted nature, but divine and eternal judgment waits at the end. The very lusts that govern and torment the slaves of sin are the first instalment and token of the wrath of God. That wrath is revealed from heaven now, and after death it will deal with the ungodliness and unrighteousness of unrepentant sinners.
The three times God gives men up touch the whole person. And the sins named here did not stay in the ancient world.
Man is made up of body, soul and spirit. The first giving up concerns the body, in verses 24-25. Then He gave them up to vile passions. This concerns the soul, and the horrible things stated in verses 26-27 are the results. People practised these things in the open in the Greek and Roman world in the days of the apostle Paul... These vile things are still going on. They are found in the middle of the Christian world too. Whenever and wherever men abandon the truth of God, degradation of every kind follows, for the truth of God alone can restrain evil.
Romans 1 is not a dead end. Paul wrote to people who had come out of exactly this.
Having given this terrible list of the corruptions of the flesh, he says, "Such were some of you". Wonderful grace, that can take us up from the lowest place of degradation in the far country and join us with Christ in the highest place of glory in the Father's house!
- Cause — Men gave God up first. These sins came at the end of a slow descent, and each generation went further than the last.
- Consequence — "God gave them up" is God's government, not God making men sin. He dropped the reins, and what was already in the heart came out.
- Collapse — Men put the creature above the Creator, and then fell below it. Their affections left their natural course.
- Cost — The penalty arrives now, inside the sinner. The lust that torments him is the first instalment of a wrath still to come.
- Cure — Only the truth of God holds this evil back, and only grace lifts a person out. Grace takes people from the lowest degradation to the highest glory in the Father's house.
And according as they did not think good to have God in [their] knowledge, God gave them up to a reprobate mind to practise unseemly things;
The rest of Romans 1 lists one dark sin after another. Verse 28 gives the cause: men would not keep God in their thinking, so God handed them over to the very mind they had chosen.
The first clause is about the mind as much as the heart. Men weighed the matter and refused to approve of God.
Another translation renders verse 28: "And according as they did not think good to have God in their knowledge, God gave them up." They would give no approval to having God in their knowledge. That is as much a matter of the mind as of the heart, and both of these were corrupted. So "God gave them up to a reprobate mind," a mind that rejects the good and is therefore rejected by the good It is left to its own worthlessness and its wilful failure to see straight.
The word translated "debased" echoes the first clause, and it can carry more than one sense.
The word adokimos is translated "reprobate" here, as it is elsewhere. That word suits the phrase well. It sets their refusal to approve of keeping God in their knowledge against His giving them over to a "disapproved" mind. But the word may also bear an active sense. It would then mean an "undiscerning" mind — the sentence passed on their presumption in rejecting God after pretending to test and try the matter.
The sins listed in verses 29 to 31 are not a random collection. They all grow from one soil, and that soil is the heart.
When summing up the sins of the Gentiles the apostle says, "God gave them up to a debased mind." Why? Because "they did not see fit to acknowledge God." (Rom. 1:28.) This was the root, and all the other sins were but the fruits. God does not ask for your goodness. He wants the heart, and this is what man does not like to give.
What men do to God's character, they end up doing to their own.
If men lose the knowledge of God, if they depart from Him, if they corrupt God, they will corrupt themselves. God gave them up to a debased mind because they had corrupted Him and did not want to keep Him in their knowledge. That is why all the unspeakable vices of the pagan world flourish.
This is the third and last time in the chapter that God gives men up. Each time reaches a different part of the person.
Men chose to give up the light that God had given of Himself. The result is that man is given up to a debased mind, abandoned to his depraved thoughts. The terrible effect of sin is to leave men with defiled bodies (v. 24), degraded affections (v. 26), and deformed minds (v. 28). Man is fallen body, soul, and spirit.
Man moved first in this exchange.
Three times over we get the phrase, with slight variations: "God gave them up to ...". If men object to thinking of God and give Him up, they have no ground of complaint when He gives them up. And if they give up God, and so give up good as well, they find themselves given up to everything that is evil and degrading. There is an ironic justice about God's government.
God's handing men over is a real act. Even so, He is not the author of the sin that follows.
So God gave them up to reap what they had sown. He did not make them sin — God forbid the thought! He dropped the reins on man's neck, so that what was in sinful man's heart would come out — in my heart, reader, and yours.
The verse also settles a question about human history.
But there is more: they did not want to keep God in their knowledge. So God gave them up to a debased mind, to do what ought not to be done. That is where the lawlessness, selfishness, and injustice so common on earth come from. A state of savagery, then, is the fruit of man's will. It is not the original condition of the human race.
Commentators apply the verse beyond the ancient world to anyone who edits God out of his account of things.
It is only Scripture that throws real light on the subject, and to refuse or neglect what the word of God teaches, is only to go far astray... There is a solemn warning in Scripture, which tells us of men not liking to retain God in their knowledge, being given over by God to "a debased mind" (Rom. 1:28).
- Root. Every sin listed after this verse grows from one root: men did not see fit to keep God in their knowledge. God wants the heart, not a show of goodness.
- Verdict. Man's word to God is "not approved"; God's word back is a "disapproved" — or undiscerning — mind. The punishment matches the crime.
- Reach. Three times God gives men up in this chapter, touching body, affections, and mind — man is fallen in every part.
- Restraint. God does not make anyone sin; He drops the reins and lets the heart show what was always in it.
- Result. Savagery is where human will ended up. It is not where the human race started.
being filled with all unrighteousness, wickedness, covetousness, malice; full of envy, murder, strife, deceit, evil dispositions; whisperers,
This verse opens the list of evils that follows God's handing men over to a mind He has rejected. It begins not with an act but with a condition: man is filled, and the question is who that includes.
The sins named here are the outcome of something that happened earlier in the chapter. One writer traces the whole list back to one decision, and shows how far the damage spread:
Men chose to give up the light God had given of Himself. The result is that man is given over to a mind God has rejected, abandoned to his own corrupt thoughts. The dreadful effect of sin is to leave men with defiled bodies (verse 24), degraded affections (verse 26), and deformed minds (verse 28). Man is fallen body, soul, and spirit.
The word "filled" carries the weight here. It is about who owns a man, and about where the evil sits:
What follows is a list of the evils man has filled himself with. It might well make the heart recoil in horror. But having refused God the right of possession, then evil has taken possession of him. He is not the neutral, self-controlled man he would like to boast of being. He is the abject slave of sin. Notice how this list strikes at the thoughts and passions of the heart. The evil does show itself openly in time. But God here uncovers and exposes man's inner being — what he is "full" of — the thoughts and lusts of his mind and heart. Who can escape the conclusion that we have been found out?
Two Greek words stand behind the English word "covetousness". The one here is the wider of the two:
Both pleonexia and philarguria refer to covetousness, but there appears to be a clear difference between them. Pleonexia (from words meaning "to have more") is not limited to money, and often goes together with open wickedness. The force of the word is "desiring more than is necessary", and so "an over-reaching to get". It is used this way of the lusts of the flesh in Romans 1:29 and Ephesians 4:19, where English Bibles translate it "greediness", and Ephesians 5:3, and so on. Scripture declares it to be idolatry in Colossians 3:5.
Some older Bibles include "fornication" in this verse; the ESV does not. One commentator explains why he leaves it out, and reads the list as three deliberate groups:
In verse 29 I have left out "fornication". Good manuscript evidence supports leaving it out, and the wording itself seems to me to tip the scale against it… As I see it, the first group is personal evil. The second is evil done to other people. The third does not give roots of moral corruption in the abstract, personal or relative, but fully formed wicked characters — and it does this in an order that is not random and not hard to see.
It is tempting to read the catalogue as a portrait of unusually bad people. One writer says plainly who it includes:
You have there a list of crimes that brings the flush of shame to the cheek even to read it. It stands there not as some exceptional result of man's sin, but as the natural fruit of his departure from God. And it covers every unsaved person: "they did not like to retain God in their knowledge." … It is as though the Spirit of God set the root and the fruit side by side and said to men: cut loose from God, and you give free rein to every kind of evil the flesh is capable of.
The words quoted there are from verse 28 in an older translation.
One writer sets this list beside a warning about people who keep the outward form of godliness:
Timothy was to turn away from those who had the outward form of godliness but denied its power. Compare that with Romans 1:29-31, and you will see that the evil he had to turn away from was as bad as that among the pagan nations. Being in the place of light, and under the pretence of light, only made it worse.
- Root. Men chose not to keep God in their knowledge; everything in this verse grows out of that one refusal.
- Handover. God gave them over to a mind He has rejected, so body, affections and mind are all damaged together.
- Filled. Refuse God possession, and evil takes possession instead. What God exposes is the thoughts and passions, not just the deeds.
- Reach. "Covetousness" here is more than love of money. It is wanting more than is right, an over-reaching to get — and Scripture calls that idolatry.
- Mirror. This is not a portrait of unusually wicked people. It is the normal fruit of leaving God — and the same evil can appear among those who keep the outward form of godliness, where the light makes it worse, not better.
back-biters, hateful to God, insolent, proud, boasters, inventors of evil things, disobedient to parents,
Paul is describing what people become once they turn from God. The words run from the tongue to the heart to the home. Where does such a list come from? And does it describe strangers far away, or the human heart itself?
The list is not a survey of unusually wicked people. Commentators trace it back to one decision made earlier in the chapter — that men did not want to keep God in their knowledge.
You have there a catalogue of crime that brings shame to the cheek even to read it. It is given, not as some exceptional result of man's sin, but as the natural fruit of his departure from God. It is given in a way that includes every unsaved person: "Since they did not see fit to acknowledge God." … It is as though the Spirit of God put the root and the fruit side by side. He said to men: cut loose from God, and you give rein to every form of evil the flesh is capable of.
The damage does not stop at one part of a person.
The awful effect of sin is to leave men with defiled bodies (24), degraded affections (26), and deformed minds (28). Man is fallen body, soul, and spirit.
The words are not thrown together at random. One commentator sees three groups running through verses 29–31.
I think the first group is personal evil. The second is evil that involves other people. The third brings out, not roots of moral corruption taken on their own, whether personal or relative, but fully formed wicked characters. The order is systematic and easy to see.
Commentators differ on the wording here — some read it as "hateful to God." Either way, the charge covers everyone.
Only think of anyone being a hater of such a One as God. And we know that all who are not lovers must be haters. People may not see this; very few would be willing to admit they are outright haters of God. But there is no neutral ground in this great question. We must either be for or against… It often happens that the heart's deep-seated hostility to God comes out in hatred of His people, His word, His worship, His service.
The word behind "haughty" is not simple self-confidence. Someone else always suffers for it.
Pride. There are several words translated this way in the Greek New Testament. The one used here conveys the sense of a spirit of self-exaltation in a man, combined with the belittling of others. The Pharisees are glaring examples. They trusted in themselves that they were righteous and treated others with contempt (Luke 18:9). But the Gentiles are no more free of guilt here than the Jews (Rom. 1:30). This arrogance shows itself in boastful words and self-glorifying deeds, but it starts inside the heart.
The phrase points to invention turned the wrong way. Its victims are the people who confess God.
Some people are by nature incapable of finding out the way of peace, yet they hit upon ingenious devices. The Spirit recognises them as "inventors of evil" (Rom. 1:30). Their devices vary the miseries of those who openly confess God in Satan's world. Turning away from evil makes a man a target. Some tolerate no departure from the established habits of sin.
The last item looks mild beside hatred of God. Yet Paul puts it in the same sentence.
You can see the value God places on a child's obedience from His estimate of disobedience… The apostle also marks disobedience to parents as a characteristic sign of the perilous times of the last days (2 Tim. 3:1-2). It is a mark of great moral corruption (Rom. 1:30). Even a little knowledge of life shows that the first step down has often started with disobedience to parents.
One writer sets this list beside 2 Timothy 3, where almost the same words describe people inside the church.
Romans 1:29-31 describes the moral condition of the heathen world in Paul's day. But 2 Timothy 3:1-5 describes the moral condition of the professing Christian masses of the last times. These are church members who have the form of godliness and deny its power.
The verse is not the last word. Titus 3 sets the same darkness beside something far greater.
How deserving of hatred — as in Romans 1:30, "haters of God," or perhaps more correctly, "hateful to God." … Yet notice the glorious, surprising contrast: "But when the goodness and loving kindness of God our Savior appeared." Divine love goes beyond human depravity. Weigh the two statements in your mind. Balance one against the other, and see the astounding weight of God's love over man's guilt.
- Root — the whole list is fruit. The root is that men did not want God in their knowledge.
- Reach — the ruin runs through the whole man: defiled body, degraded affections, deformed mind.
- Range — the evil moves from the tongue to the heart to the home. It touches every relationship.
- Repeat — the same list returns in 2 Timothy 3, among people who keep the form of godliness. It is a mirror, not a museum piece.
- Remedy — God weighs the guilt only to outweigh it. Divine love goes further still.
void of understanding, faithless, without natural affection, unmerciful;
Paul closes his charge against the nations with four short words for what men had become. They are not random vices: commentators trace them back to one cause, and forward to a startling parallel in a later letter.
One writer ties every item in the list back to a decision men made about God. He quotes verse 28 from an older translation, and traces the damage through the whole person — mind included.
This catalogue of crimes describes a condition that goes back to one root. When men had some knowledge of God, "They did not think good to have God in their knowledge." Men chose to give up the light that God had given of Himself. So God gave man over to a reprobate mind, abandoned to his depraved thoughts. The awful effect of sin is to leave men with defiled bodies (24), degraded affections (26), and deformed minds (28). Man is fallen body, soul, and spirit.
The terms are not synonyms piled up for effect. Each names a different circle of broken obligation, and they are arranged in a deliberate order — moving outward first, then inward.
There the apostle starts with the more outward "covenant-breakers", or more generally "faithless". He moves next to the lack of family affection, and then to the more personal "unmerciful", or pitiless. In 2 Timothy, where he predicts how the Christian world will fall away, he goes from within outwards. There, in place of "covenant-breakers", he puts "implacable", that is, defiant of every bond.
Older English versions add "implacable" to this verse. One commentator judged that the word does not belong here, and explained how it likely arrived.
"Implacable" lacks authority, since the best and most ancient manuscripts leave it out. So it is dropped from verse 31. It probably came in here through its link with "without natural affection" in 2 Timothy 3:3.
The ESV follows that judgment and keeps only the four words. The King James Version has "implacable" as well.
"Heartless" — the loss of ordinary family love — can look like the mildest word on the list. One writer treats it as the opposite: the failure of something God Himself stamped with His approval.
There is natural affection; but if it gets hold of us it may become idolatry. A child or a husband may take our heart from God, but being without affection is one of the signs of the last times. In the last days men are not only not spiritual, but they are not natural. The Lord puts His seal on every relationship. It is an awful thing to see a child failing in affection to its parent, even if that child is not converted. The nearer the relationship, the more dreadful it is.
Paul writes a second list, in 2 Timothy 3, describing the closing days of Christian profession — and the wording overlaps this one closely. That overlap is used as evidence against the idea that the human race has morally improved.
They prove, beyond all question, that the notion of an improved world is false. In some places it has changed its dress, but not its real spirit. It has taken off the robes of paganism and put on the cloak of Christianity. But under that cloak you can still see every hideous feature of paganism's spirit. Compare Romans 1:29-31 with 2 Timothy 3. There you will find the very traits of human nature at its most pagan, reappearing alongside an outward form of godliness.
This indictment stands in a letter whose subject is God's righteousness offered to sinners. Set the darkest description of man beside what God did, and one of the two is plainly greater.
Divine love goes far beyond human depravity. Despite all the well-deserved judgment, despite the hateful condition, despite the whole tide of sin, the kindness and love of God appear, and by His grace He justifies! Weigh the two statements against each other, and see how astonishingly the love of God outweighs the guilt of man.
- Root — every item in verses 29–31 grows from one decision: men did not think it good to keep God in their knowledge.
- Ruin — the damage runs through the whole man: defiled bodies, degraded affections, deformed minds.
- Range — the words move from the outside in: broken agreements, then lost family love, then a heart with no pity.
- Repeat — the same traits reappear in 2 Timothy 3 among people wearing a form of godliness; the dress changes, the nature does not.
- Remedy — set against this list, the kindness and love of God weigh more. He justifies by grace the very man described here.
who knowing the righteous judgment of God, that they who do such things are worthy of death, not only practise them, but have fellow delight in those who do [them].
The verse closes Paul's account of how humanity drifted away from God. It ends not with ignorance but with applause. Men who know what God has decided about such conduct still do it — and go further, cheering on others who do the same.
The word Paul uses is not vague awareness. It carries the sense of personal recognition:
In some passages this compound word, especially as a verb, means "certain personal knowledge, and the recognition of the truth of a thing that follows from it." It is "recognising because we know." See Matthew 7:16, 20 … Romans 1:32.
Knowing about judgment does not, by itself, change how people live. That is the sting of this verse.
They are not ignorant of God's righteous judgment against such things, or of the truth that those who do them are worthy of death. They know this. The testimony of intelligence and conscience leaves them no escape. But it makes no difference to their evil course. They know that they will reap as they sow, yet go on sowing the abominations to which they have yielded themselves. Not only this, but they enjoy the evil of others, finding pleasure in the very thought of sin, and encouraging it by friendly company with those bent on it. How bold, how arrogant, how debased, how enslaved is the creature who was once "made in the image of God"!
Approving the sins of others is a step beyond committing them. A person swept along by his own desire at least has an appetite driving him; the spectator has none, and still sides with the wrongdoer.
Natural conscience knew that God judged such things to be worthy of death according to the just requirements of His nature. Still, they not only did them. They took pleasure in those who did them, even when their own lusts were not carrying them away.
Earlier in the chapter God hands people over to what they have chosen. Some treat that as an excuse: if God abandoned them, who can blame them? The verse itself answers it.
It is true that in His governmental dealings God has given men over to the vices they love. He has done so because they have turned away from Him and have chosen to indulge their lusts. But despite this, they have in them by nature (such is the make-up of their being) a sense that God is just in sentencing them to death. They know they deserve to die. They know the sentence that condemns them to die is entirely just. This is true of the lowest, of the most degraded and abandoned. None, then, can excuse themselves, or their sins, in God's court on the ground that He gave them over to judicial blindness.
If conscience knows the verdict, rulers and lawmakers might look like the exception. Paul's closing line refuses that comfort, and the ancient historians agree.
Someone may ask: were there not rulers, kings, and magistrates who made laws against wickedness and punished crime? "Though they know God's righteous decree that those who practice such things deserve to die, they not only do them but give approval to those who practice them." So then, as now, the rulers or chiefs are the most wicked of all. For proof we have only to read any of the ancient historians. Leave man to himself, and the more power he has, the greater his wickedness … Crowds rushed together into amphitheatres to feast their eyes on cruel wickedness.
This list of evils is not left behind in the pagan past. Paul's description of the last days repeats it almost word for word, this time among people who claim to follow God.
Scripture reveals that "in the last days there will come times of difficulty" (2 Timothy 3:1). Then follows, almost word for word, the same description of the professing church that Scripture gives of the pagan world under the sentence of a debased mind (compare 2 Timothy 3:2-5 with Romans 1:28-32). … At the same time there is a form of godliness. It may be something very beautiful to attract the eye, but there is rottenness and dead men's bones inside.
- Known. The word for "knowing" means personal recognition, not a vague hunch.
- Kept. That knowledge changes nothing on its own; they know they will reap as they sow, and go on sowing.
- Cheered. Worse than doing evil is enjoying it in others, with no desire of their own pushing them.
- Excused? Being "given up" by God is no defence; even the most degraded still admit the sentence against them is just.
- Everywhere. The pattern runs from ancient rulers and crowds at the arena to a religion that looks beautiful outside and is rotten inside.
Therefore thou art inexcusable, O man, every one who judgest, for in that in which thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that judgest doest the same things.
Paul has just described the open corruption of the pagan world. Now the word "therefore" turns on the respectable critic who agreed with him: does a sharp eye for sin in others count for anything before God?
One writer pictures the scene as if Paul had spotted an approving listener in the crowd:
It is almost as if at this point he saw a refined and polished Greek standing nearby, quite approving of his condemnation of the terrible sins of the poor barbarians. So he swung round and charged him with doing in a refined way the very same things he condemned in the barbarian in their cruder forms. Because of this he too stands before God without excuse, for in judging others he condemned himself.
The people addressed here saw the corruption around them and named it for what it was:
Look now at a class of people who differ from the ones before: they judge those evils. Philosophers, moralists and the like saw such a state of things well enough. Were they themselves changed? Not at all. If they judged evil, it was not to avoid it; they judged it only in others.
A sharp eye for wrong looks like a mark of superiority. One writer traces it back to a different source:
Despite the terrible corruption of the pagan world, man keeps the ability to judge and condemn the evil in his fellow men. This ability, in itself, is proof that we are fallen creatures. The knowledge of good and evil came to us only by the fall... Already he has shown that the witness of creation leaves men without excuse. Now he will show that the ability to condemn evil also leaves men without excuse. The plain reason is that the ability to condemn evil gives no power to resist it. So while men condemn evil, they commit the very evils they condemn.
Conscience can detect a fault; it cannot cure one.
Natural conscience may detect evil. But it never leads a person to possess and enjoy what is good, and it never brings the soul to God. So in chapter 2 the Holy Spirit shows us man content with saying what is right and wrong — moralising for others, but nothing more. Now God must have reality in the man himself.
The judge's own words become the evidence against him. He loses his place on the bench before he ever climbs onto it:
Man already stands charged as a sinner himself, so he is not competent to judge his fellow man. In doing so he would be passing sentence upon himself... Only someone free from the stain of sin can pass a valid judgment on human sin. So man is shut out of the seat of judgment altogether. But the heart is deceitful as well as evil. So men judge their neighbour while they themselves continue in sin, and constantly bring themselves under a double condemnation — of sin and of hypocrisy.
The problem is not one man's bad character. It is the nature everyone shares:
It was the ruined heart of man exposing itself. And because this was so — because it was the common nature showing itself — the Lord takes the judgment of it away from man... All are in the same condemnation. No one can pick up the stone and throw it at another.
Does disapproving of sin in public soften the sentence? One writer says it does the opposite:
Men judge others and yet do the same things, and so condemn themselves. How can this in any way stop or even soften the sentence of God? It was and is common among thinkers, moralists and the like. In truth it makes the case far worse... Instead of openly sympathising with those who sin, they may condemn it as wrong. But if they do the same, how can such trifling with morality, or those guilty of it, stand before God?
The verse says "O man" — anyone at all. One writer turns the question on his reader:
Is it so with my reader? Do you have a stern measure for denouncing the evils of others, and a lesser one for yourself? Do you plead extenuating circumstances for yourself? Or do you persuade yourself that your refined, respectable ways of self-indulgence cancel or lessen that guilt? Does your practised skill at covering guilt with a fine veneer cancel or lessen it in the eyes of a holy and discerning God?
- Turn — Paul turns from the openly corrupt to the man who applauded his description of them. That polished critic does the very same things in a refined form.
- Ability — Knowing good from evil came by the fall, and it brings no strength. The power to condemn evil gives no power to resist it.
- Verdict — The one who judges while doing the same passes sentence on himself, and adds hypocrisy to sin.
- Disqualification — Only someone untouched by sin may sit as judge. So no one here can throw the first stone.
- Reality — Moralising for others satisfies the man, but not God. He must have the good real in the person himself.
But we know that the judgment of God is according to truth upon those who do such things.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
And thinkest thou this, O man, who judgest those that do such things, and practisest them [thyself], that *thou* shalt escape the judgment of God?
One question closes the argument that began in the previous chapter. It asks the respectable man who condemns evil in others, and does the same himself, whether he expects to slip past God's judgment.
The person here is not yet the Jew of the later verses. It is any man whose conscience can spot wrong in others.
At the start of Romans 2 we have man putting on a show of righteousness. It is still "man" — not yet exactly the Jew, but man. He may have profited by whatever the Jew had, or at least by the workings of natural conscience. Natural conscience can detect evil, but it never leads anyone into owning and enjoying what is good. It never brings the soul to God. So in chapter 2 the Holy Spirit shows us man satisfying himself with pronouncing on right and wrong — moralising for others, but nothing more. Now God must have reality in the man himself. God will no doubt use such moral judgments to leave man without excuse; they can never suit or satisfy Him.
Ancient moralists are the obvious example, and the type did not die out with them.
In the heathen world there were those who spoke out against the immoral conditions and the various vices. There were moralists, reformers and philosophers like Socrates, Seneca and others. They judged and condemned certain evils. But God declares that they were not one bit better than the rest. The very things they condemned they were guilty of themselves. They practised evil because the same evil heart was in them. And this is not limited to the moralists of the past. The same is true of others in this age, who judged the evils around them and condemned them, and were later found doing the very things they condemned.
after
People treat their moral opinions as credit against a bad record. The opposite holds.
Men judge others and yet do the same things, and so condemn themselves. How can this in any way stop or even soften God's sentence? In truth it is no small aggravation. To say "we see" exposes us, who nonetheless practise wrongdoing, to hear from the just Judge of all that "our sin remains."
The verse rests on the statement just before it. God's measure is not the one the moralist uses.
The standard by which God measures evil is not the standard of philosophy, but the "truth" as to God made known in Christianity. All that God is has been made known in Christ. "Grace and truth came through Jesus Christ." God has now revealed the full truth of all that He is, in His holy nature. That truth is the standard by which He judges all evil. Men measure evil by standards they set up themselves.
The delay is not acquittal.
Doing these things and judging others was not the way to escape God's judgment. Or were they despising God's mercy, which leads them to repentance? Were they heaping up wrath for the day of judgment, the day when God reveals His righteous judgment? God always judges evil morally. But there is a day when He will reveal that judgment. Then He will deal with evil openly, according to His own nature. Judgment will be executed.
Pridham weighs what this habit does, and what keeps it alive.
This fault-finding spirit is doubly offensive to God. First, it pushes a poor sinful creature into the place of God. That creature is himself under the sentence of death, and God is ready to call him to account. Second, it is a flat denial of God's truth, which concludes that all are under sin. Meanwhile, man thinks that he will escape the judgment of God. It is the lurking presence of this thought at the bottom of his heart that supports and sustains him in his evil way. But, sadly for self-deceiving man, the thought is empty. By trusting his own heart this way, he becomes a fool in the end.
The instinct that condemns others also concedes God's right to judge.
The consciences of all men everywhere admit that wrongdoing must be punished, and they act on this in their dealings with each other. They make laws, and they inflict penalties when those laws are broken. Yet some would deny to God the right they feel they must exercise themselves.
The certainty of judgment carries one exception.
If God passes judgment according to the truth of His holy nature, one thing is certain. Those who practise what they condemn in others will not escape the execution of His judgment — unless they repent.
- Conscience — judging others proves the conscience works. It never produces good in the judge; it only leaves him without excuse.
- Aggravation — knowing better and doing the same is no defence. It deepens the guilt.
- Truth — the standard is not human philosophy. It is all that God is, revealed in Christ.
- Delay — God's verdict on evil already stands. The day He carries it out is still ahead, and His patience now is mercy leading to repentance.
- Escape — the quiet thought "I will get away with it" keeps people in sin. The one way out is repentance.
or despisest thou the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leads thee to repentance?
Paul turns from open sinners to the man who condemns them. This verse strips that man of his last defence. It asks what he is doing with the kindness he has been living on all along. Where the ESV says he "presumes on" that kindness, older wording says he despises "the riches of his goodness" — that is the phrasing the writers below use.
The verse follows a chain of questions aimed at someone who feels safe because he disapproves of other people's sins. One writer traces the shift from the previous verse:
In verse 3 his thoughts tell him he is safe from the judgment of God. In verse 4 his thoughts despise the goodness of God. How contemptible the pride of man!
Learning is no shield here. Kelly presses the same charge against philosophy:
The truth is that philosophy does not know God. So it easily forgets His judgment, and it can never grasp His love. It is self-satisfied and has man for its object, not God. So it despises His lavish goodness and His patience, and it never learns the lesson of His purpose in it all.
Three words stack up here: kindness, forbearance, patience. All three describe a God who holds back. The delay has a purpose:
God's judgment will most surely come, though in His goodness it may be long delayed. In His goodness God holds back from judging and bears with evil for a long time. It was so in the days of Noah, when God waited one hundred and twenty years before He sent the judgment of the flood... Because He holds back, men think God will never judge. Because He bears with them so long, men think God does not care about evil. So men despise the goodness of God. They do not see why He holds back and bears with them: it is to give men space to repent.
The same patience can harden a man instead:
With Pharaoh, what hardened his heart was simply God's patient mercy (Ex. 8:15; Ex. 9:34); so what should have done good turns to evil again and again, because man's will rebels against his Maker. Treasures of mercy are stored up for the future as treasures of wrath.
The verse sets the order: kindness comes first and repentance follows. Reverse that order and the gospel is lost:
Many preach repentance as works for salvation, as something that comes before faith in the riches of God's goodness. But it is when we know and believe the goodness of God in sending His beloved Son to die for our sins that this leads us to repentance and produces it in us. Indeed, we can only know how deep our sin and guilt go when we know the depths He had to go down into to save us... it is not our repentance that leads to, or causes, God's goodness to us. It is God's goodness that leads to, and causes, repentance in us.
Fear alone does not produce repentance. Another writer explains why:
But repentance is far from the natural heart. There may well be fear of punishment. But being broken and sorry for sin is foreign to the proud will of man. Nothing will, or can lead him to it but the goodness of God — goodness that has melted and subdued many a proud, stubborn heart.
People have drawn wrong conclusions from this verse about what repentance is. Kelly answers two of them:
Different schools of doctrine have drawn a wrong conclusion, one from Romans 2:4, the other from 2 Corinthians 7:10. One side thinks that seeing God's goodness is repentance. The other side thinks it is godly sorrow for sin. Scripture says nothing of the sort in either case. It shows that repentance always involves a change of mind, but goes much further. It is a matter of conscience in the light of God, not just a work of the mind.
Everything hangs on what a man does with this kindness. He either lets it lead him, or he refuses it:
But this very chapter says that if men will not let the goodness of God take them by the hand and lead them to repentance, the severity of God will seize them and drag them to judgment.
- Aimed — The verse targets the man who judges others and thinks he is safe. He despises the very kindness he lives on.
- Delayed — God holds back to give space to repent. His patience is not proof that judgment will never come.
- Led — Goodness comes first and produces repentance; repentance does not earn the goodness.
- Melted — A man can fear punishment and still not be broken. Only kindness subdues a proud will.
- Or Judged — Kindness either takes a man by the hand to repentance, or he despises it and stores up wrath instead.
but, according to thy hardness and impenitent heart, treasurest up to thyself wrath, in [the] day of wrath and revelation of [the] righteous judgment of God,
Paul has just spoken of God's kindness leading people to repentance. Here he shows what a hard heart does with that kindness. Instead of softening, the sinner collects. He builds a store that God will open on a fixed day.
The verse names the cause: a hard heart. Commentators point to a reversal here. The same mercy that should soften a man can harden him instead.
When judgment against an evil deed is not carried out quickly, people become fully set on doing evil (Ecclesiastes 8:11). With Pharaoh, what hardened his heart was exactly God's forbearing mercy (Exodus 8:15; 9:34). So what should be for good is turned again and again into evil through the revolt of man's will against his Maker. Treasures of mercy stored up for the future become treasures of wrath. A day of wrath must come for those on whom all His goodness has had no good effect.
The man in view here is respectable, not openly immoral. He judges others and assumes his own standards will get him through. Commentators answer whether they do.
There is, then, no way of escape for the refined sinner or the mere moralist. Indeed, it seems he will come in for a more severe condemnation. His very knowledge increases his guilt. God's goodness would lead him to repentance, but he despises that goodness in the hardness of his heart. So he treasures up wrath for himself.
"Treasuring up" pictures a deposit that grows. One writer names a second way it fills: refusing a warning God has already given.
The very fact of speaking about wrath beforehand is grace. It has not come, but it is plainly "revealed" that it will come. Are you then despising the warning of what is coming? Do you not know that you are treasuring up wrath against the day of wrath? You do it not only by committing sins, but by rejecting the testimony of God's Son.
"The day of wrath" is a real point in time, not a figure of speech. One writer also explains why it is taking so long.
Refusing to repent, man treasures up wrath for the day of wrath. Man calls down wrath by his evil. He also calls it down by despising the goodness of God that would deal with that evil. All this will become clear to the unrepentant in the day of wrath. In the goodness of God that day may be long delayed. Still, it is surely coming. It is an actual day when God's judgment, not man's, will be revealed and carried out.
The word "revelation" points to something already true but unseen. God does not form His verdict on that day. He makes it public and acts on it.
God always judges evil morally. But there is a day when that judgment will be revealed. Then He will deal with evil openly, according to His own nature. Judgment will be carried out.
The verse adds one more word: "righteous." A trial can uncover the facts and still go wrong.
A wretched criminal may have the truth of his crime dragged into the light. Yet if the judge is incompetent or unrighteous, he may still escape. The divine judgments are righteous as well as according to truth.
Does this day touch believers? One writer draws a line between two kinds of judgment.
A child of God who sins must come under God's governmental chastening in this life. But he cannot come into God's penal judgment when the world is condemned. 1 Corinthians 11:32 makes the difference clear: "But when we are judged by the Lord, we are disciplined so that we may not be condemned along with the world." But John 5:24, Romans 2:5 and Revelation 20:11-15 refer to God's eternal judgment of wicked unbelievers.
- Treasure — the cause. Hardness is not neutral. God's patience, when despised, turns treasures of mercy into treasures of wrath.
- Treasure — the depositor. Paul addresses the moralist who judges others. His knowledge increases his guilt instead of reducing it.
- Treasure — the deposits. The store grows two ways: by sins committed, and by refusing the testimony of God's Son.
- Treasure — the opening day. The day of wrath is a real day. God's goodness delays it. Then God reveals His judgment and carries it out.
- Treasure — the escape. God's verdict is righteous, so no one slips through on a technicality. But commentators separate this judgment from the discipline God gives His own children.
who shall render to each according to his works
God judges by one fixed standard, and this verse names it: what each person has done. So if God settles accounts by works, what happens to salvation by grace?
Once God has revealed Himself, He deals with people by what they do. Being Jew or Greek changes nothing under that test.
Now that God is revealed, He deals with man according to his actions. In the day of judgment He will render to everyone according to his works, whether he is Jew or Greek, for God shows no partiality. He had indeed chosen a people, and brought them near to Himself, to put man to the test... but at root there was no difference among men. All were sinners by nature, and all had sinned... In His righteousness God counts only the measure of light each person has.
People share one fallen nature, so nature cannot tell one from another. Works can.
In the day of judgment, therefore, God will give the award not according to the nature, in which they are alike, but according to their works, in which they are not alike. God "will render to each one according to his works" (Rom. 2:6). And this, and this alone, will be the exact measure of guilt and responsibility.
God renders to everyone. That is not the same as judging everyone.
The third great principle of God's judgment is that in judgment "God will render to each one according to his works". The verse does not say here when God will do this for well doing. But for evil doing it plainly names the time: the "day of wrath". Yet the Apostle does not say that God will judge each one, for only the evil doer comes into judgment in the "day of wrath". God will "render" to each one according to his works.
Does forgiveness cancel the accounting? No — an honest man still settles his accounts, and past kindnesses do not make that settlement unjust.
This is the unchanging principle of God's righteous dealings, and grace does not weaken it at all. Grace, it is true, lays our sins on another as our substitute. It credits us with the good deeds God's own power works in us. But this confirms the principle instead of contradicting it. If an upright man winds up his affairs, he collects what is due to him, and pays what he owes. And it is no less just if he has cancelled some debts, or taken on some obligations, out of kindness.
Salvation and reward do not rest on the same basis:
Judgment takes account of everything, including greater advantages. Each person gives account according to his light and receives according to his deeds. Salvation is according to grace; reward or judgment is according to works.
Verses 6 to 11 never mention faith, and some read that as a doorway to earning eternal life by effort. Reading further closes the door.
Verses 6 to 11 trouble some minds, because they never mention faith in Christ. Some read verse 7, for instance, and say, "There! So after all you have only got to keep on doing good and seeking good, and eternal life will be yours at the end." But read on a little further, and you discover this: no one does good or seeks good unless he believes in Christ.
The verse can be misused, and that tempts us to soften it. The counsel runs the other way: answer the misuse from other Scripture, and let this sentence keep its full weight on the conscience.
Well, a man says, "There may then be good people, and if they do good, they will get glory, honour, and peace." But I say to him, "You are completely wrong; no one is good but God." Plenty of Scripture meets such a case. But we do not need to weaken this sentence in Romans to do it. God's nature requires a certain life and character in a man for him to be with God... You must have that life and walk in that life, or you will not be in heaven. So this is broad dealing with conscience, and that is what we must not weaken.
- Render — God's rule is fixed: He deals with each person by what they did, not by which group they belong to.
- Measure — all share one fallen nature, so works alone measure each person's guilt and responsibility, against the light they had.
- Distinction — God renders to each one, but the text does not say He judges each one. Only the evil-doer comes into judgment in the day of wrath.
- Confirmed — grace does not suspend this accounting. It lays the sins on a substitute and works the good deeds by God's own power. That upholds the rule instead of breaking it.
- Unweakened — no one seeks good except by believing in Christ, so let the verse stand at full force on the conscience.
to them who, in patient continuance of good works, seek for glory and honour and incorruptibility, life eternal.
This verse sits inside Paul's account of how God will judge every person, Jew or Gentile, "according to his works." Here we get the reward side of that judgment. It raises two questions: what are these people seeking, and how can such a verse stand beside salvation by grace?
The verse states a rule of God's dealings that runs through the whole Bible and is not softened by the good news of forgiveness.
This is the unchanging principle of God's righteous dealings, and grace does not weaken it in any way. Grace, it is true, lays our sins on another as our substitute. It also credits us with the good deeds worked in us by God's own power. But this confirms the principle instead of contradicting it. If an upright man settles his affairs, he collects what is owed to him and pays what he owes. Kindness may have cancelled some debts, or taken on some obligations. That does not make what he does any less just.
The Greek word translated "immortality" here is not the usual word for deathlessness.
In Romans 2:7 and 2 Timothy 1:10 the word is aphtharsia — not "immortality," but "incorruption."
Older translations read "incorruptibility" here instead of "immortality." That changes what the seeking is about: not deathlessness, but a state that belongs to the resurrection.
God will render eternal life "to them who by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory and honour and incorruption." That is not at all the same as seeking immortality. It is the blessed, incorruptible state into which resurrection, or the "change," will bring the saints at the coming of Christ.
The test is not flawless performance. It is what the heart aims at.
It is of course not a matter of absolute holiness or perfection here; but the heart clearly shows itself. Does the heart set itself on what is good? Does it patiently continue to follow what is pure and true? Does it bear the unmistakable stamp of eternity — the weighing of everlasting realities?
Verse 7 is only half of a pair. The next verse names the opposite of patient endurance.
"To them who, by patient continuance in well doing, seek for glory, and honour, and immortality" — this marks out their object — "eternal life." Set against these are "them who are contentious." Contention is the opposite of enduring and suffering, and it marks the way of the world. They "do not obey the truth": they have not God's object, and they do not submit to His righteousness.
Nobody seeks glory, honour and incorruptibility by instinct. Someone has to tell you about them first.
But without the gospel men never heard of these things. The law set men to seek life on earth by fulfilling their obligations. It is the gospel that sets these great objects before the soul. So no one can meet the conditions for eternal life without hearing and believing the gospel.
God holds to this rule without exception. Yet nobody meets it out of his own resources.
God always holds to His own principle: those who "by patient continuance in well-doing seek for glory, and honour, and incorruptibility" have eternal life, and none others. What produces this patient continuance in well-doing is another matter, and what awakens souls to seek after it. It is not from themselves, but from God.
Elsewhere eternal life is a present possession. Here it stands at the end of a journey, still ahead.
There is another way of viewing eternal life — its full completion in glory, according to the whole purpose of God. Seen this way, we are of course not said to have it, but to follow after it… Romans 2 puts this as a great general principle. It throws no cloud over that great truth. It is simply what is everywhere found in the New Testament: the energy of faith on the wilderness journey, moving on through grace toward the full result for which God has redeemed us. We have to go the road to arrive, but we have sure grace and the keeping of God to go it.
So what about John's writings, where the believer already has eternal life?
Paul here looks at eternal life more in its future aspect — that is, when it is separated from the very presence of sin, in its own proper sphere, heaven itself. But this does not deny the truth found in John's writings, that "whoever believes in the Son has eternal life." Every believer possesses eternal life at present, but that life is out of its own home… so its full display must await heaven's glory.
- Standard. God renders to each according to his works; grace pays the debt but never repeals the rule.
- Object. They seek glory, honour and incorruptibility — the incorruptible state resurrection brings the saints at Christ's coming, not mere deathlessness.
- Direction. The test is not perfection but a heart stamped by eternity, patiently continuing in what is good.
- Source. No one hears of these things apart from the gospel. And no one produces the patient well-doing from himself; it comes from God.
- End. Eternal life is here the finish of the road; we must walk it to arrive, kept the whole way by grace.
But to those that are contentious, and are disobedient to the truth, but obey unrighteousness, [there shall be] wrath and indignation,
Paul describes people who refuse the truth, obey unrighteousness, and so receive wrath and fury. The questions are what that refusal is, what "the truth" means for someone who never heard the gospel, and how a chapter that weighs works fits a letter that says salvation comes by grace.
Where the ESV says "self-seeking," older translations say "contentious," and the writers below use that older wording. The word means more than a bad temper in an argument. One writer traces it to the whole bent of the natural life, and shows where the conflict comes into the open.
Verse 8 describes their character: they do not obey the truth, but obey unrighteousness. They are contentious! Man's natural life is a contest with God — the mind set on the flesh is hostile to Him. The desires of the natural mind stand in constant opposition to the will of God. The test of this hostility is the word of truth. By nature man refuses to obey that word. It is the declared expression of a will that the whole course of fallen nature stands against.
The verse does not describe someone who obeys nothing. It sets one obedience against another, and one writer turns that into a question for the reader.
But on the other hand, is the heart rebellious against the truth? Is there contention instead of submission? Do you yield yourself to unrighteousness instead of to the truth of God? For there is always yielding of some sort: there must be obedience either to what is true or to what is unrighteous. The very word "obedience" is offensive to the hardened heart. Yet he has still yielded himself to obey unrighteousness.
Not everyone has heard the same message. One writer defines "the truth" by what God sets before each person.
The truth is whatever testimony may be set before men. In chapter 1 we see the descendants of Noah turn the truth of God into a lie. They went so far that righteousness required God to give them up to their own uncleanness. They ignored the testimony of creation and went on in their godless ways. So they stored up wrath for the day of wrath, when God reveals His righteous judgment. These people did not have the law. God will judge them by the light they had, not by the law.
Verse 8 and the verse after it use four terms. One writer sorts them into two pairs.
On the other hand there are those who are contentious. They do not obey the truth of Christianity, but obey unrighteousness, and their works are evil. They will come under the indignation and wrath of God. They will also suffer "tribulation and anguish." "Indignation and wrath" describe God's attitude towards evildoers; "tribulation and anguish" describe their portion. In contrast, the portion of those who work good will be "glory, honour, and peace". God will show His attitude toward them in "eternal life".
This chapter weighs deeds, yet the letter says salvation comes by grace. One writer holds both together in a single line.
Those who sin without law perish without it too. Those who sin under law will be judged by it. This happens on the day when God judges the secrets of men through Jesus Christ, according to the apostle's gospel. Here he names the "Jew first" and the "Greek" in judgment, just as he did earlier in the ministry of the gospel. Judgment takes account of everything, including greater advantages. Each person gives account according to his light and receives according to his deeds. For salvation is according to grace, reward or judgment according to works.
Verses 7-10 tell us how God judges. They do not explain how anyone could do good in the first place.
These are general principles. The passage does not take up the question of how a person can do good, or can show "patience in well-doing." But we know from the Scriptures that a man must be born again to do good, for "no one does good, not even one." (Rom. 3:12.)
- Contention. This is not bad manners in an argument. It is a life set against God's will, and God's word brings it into the open.
- Obedience. No one obeys nothing. To refuse the truth is to obey unrighteousness instead.
- Light. God measures each person by the testimony set before him: creation, the law, or the gospel.
- Portion. Indignation and wrath show how God regards the evildoer. Tribulation and anguish are what the evildoer receives.
- Principle. Judgment goes by works. Salvation goes by grace, and only a person born again can do good at all.
tribulation and distress, on every soul of man that works evil, both of Jew first, and of Greek;
The verse names the outcome for a life spent doing evil. It sets that outcome in an order: the Jew first, and also the Greek. Two questions press on any reader. What do "tribulation and distress" mean? And why do the people closest to God stand first in line for judgment?
Verses 8 and 9 hold two pairs of words. They are not saying the same thing twice.
On the other hand there are those who are contentious. They do not obey the truth of Christianity. They obey unrighteousness, and their works are evil. They will come under the indignation and wrath of God. And not only this: they will also suffer "tribulation and anguish." "Indignation and wrath" describe God's attitude towards evil doers; "tribulation and anguish" describe their portion.
The ESV pairs "tribulation and distress." The two Greek words behind them also describe what a believer meets on the narrow road. One writer sets the two roads side by side and shows how the words switch ends.
'Tribulation' here is thlipsis, and 'anguish' here is stenochoria, the very words we have just seen that mark the path of the Christian through this world! The Christian starts with the 'narrow gate' and the 'narrow way' that tell of tribulation and anguish. But they are 'but for a moment.' He ends in the 'broad street' and the many mansions, for eternity. The unbeliever starts with the 'wide gate' and the 'broad way' that perhaps tell of ease and luxury. But they end in thlipsis and stenochoria — tribulation and anguish — for eternity!
The verse does not aim at nations or classes. It names "every soul of man." That wording settles a question people still argue over: what must punishment involve?
One of the principles of God's moral government is that He will render "indignation and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that does evil" (Rom. 2:8-9). The word "punishment," so often used in Scripture here, "needs (as another has said) a conscious subject to endure it." It could have no meaning at all if applied to people who have ceased to exist.
Romans 1 said the gospel goes to the Jew first. Romans 2 keeps the same order for judgment.
In Romans 2 the apostle is not handling the gospel that saves the lost. He is handling the unchanging principles of God's righteous government. So he brings out the alternative: tribulation and distress for the one who works evil, glory and honour and peace for the one who works good, both Jew first and Greek, "for God shows no partiality." Such are His ways. Time, place and people make no deep difference with Him. The one exception is that having privileges brings a prior responsibility, and that is plainly just. If a man enjoys religious light and works out evil despite it, is he less guilty than his less favoured fellow-sinner?
This is a settled pattern in Scripture, not a one-off remark about Israel.
This is only in line with divine principles of action. Whatever claims to be near to God, God always takes in hand first for judgment. The direction for the judgment of Ezekiel 9:6 was "Begin at my sanctuary." So the Lord said to Israel, "You only have I known of all the families of the earth; therefore I will punish you for all your iniquities" (Amos 3:2)… "It is time for judgment to begin at the household of God" (1 Peter 4:17).
Some read verses 7-10 and conclude that people earn life by their conduct.
Keep this in mind. Grace may be displayed in great power. Even so, the principles of righteousness are in no way set aside. Grace upholds them… Note the two-fold truth. "Each of us will give an account of himself to God." Yet the believer will not come into judgment (John 5:24) — not merely into condemnation, but judgment.
The passage states the rule. It never says how anyone could meet it. The answer comes later in the letter.
These are general principles. It does not enter into the question of how a person can "work good," or can "patiently continue in well doing." But we know now from the Scriptures that a man must be born again to "work good." For "no one does good, not even one." (Rom. 3:12.)
- Attitude, then portion. "Indignation and wrath" say what God feels toward evil. "Tribulation and anguish" say what the evildoer receives.
- Portion reversed. For the Christian these two words mark the road now, and the end is glory. On the broad road they wait at the end, and they never end.
- Portion personal. It falls on "every soul." Punishment needs someone conscious to bear it, so God judges people one by one, not by group.
- Portion ordered. The Jew first in the gospel, the Jew first in judgment. Nearness to God raises responsibility, so judgment starts where the light shone brightest. Yet God shows no partiality.
- Portion escaped. Grace upholds these principles instead of cancelling them. The believer gives account, but does not come into judgment.
but glory and honour and peace to every one that works good, both to Jew first and to Greek
This verse is the bright half of a pair: verse 9 warns the evildoer, and verse 10 names what God gives to the one who does good. It raises sharp questions — what does God reward, why is the Jew named first, and can anyone qualify?
God's warning in verse 9 does not stand alone. He sets it between two promises.
But God takes no delight in the punishment of unbelievers, though it is an absolute necessity. But His delight in those who bow to Him is deeper than words can tell, as verses 7 to 10 show. He announces His terrible judgment, yet promise comes before it and promise follows it — pure blessing for those who have chosen the good.
Verses 9 and 10 mirror each other. But the four terms in them do not all do the same work.
"Indignation and wrath" describe God's attitude towards evildoers. "Tribulation and anguish" describe their portion. In contrast, the portion of those who work good will be "glory, honour, and peace", just as God will show His attitude toward them in the sphere of "eternal life".
Two people can hold the same beliefs and the same religious background. God's judgment reaches deeper than either.
These verses do not ask how a man enters the path of "well doing", or by what power he keeps walking in it. What God takes account of is the reality of the walk. He does not count mere profession or privileges, the kind a Jew or an educated philosopher might boast in… Remember that in judgment God will deal with men not only for their evil deeds, but also for the way they have despised the truth.
Paul had used this same order once already, for something quite different.
In Romans 1 Paul began with the bright side. He affirmed the gospel to be God's power for salvation to everyone who believes, to the Jew first and also to the Greek. Now, in Romans 2, he is not handling the gospel that saves the lost. He is handling the unchanging principles of God's righteous government, and he brings out the alternative… Time, place and people make no real difference with Him. The one exception is that having privileges brings a prior responsibility, and that is plainly just. If a man who enjoys religious light works out evil despite it, is he less guilty than his less favoured fellow-sinner? If he heeds the warning and testimony of God, working out what is good, God will not withhold "glory, honour, and peace."
Being named first changes the order, not the award.
In all this the Jew comes in along with the Greek (or Gentile); and his special privileges may even give him a first place; but the same exact award will be to each. There can be no favouritism with the righteous Judge.
Read alone, the verse sounds like an offer: do good, receive glory. But Paul has a different aim here:
The reader will note that the apostle is not here proposing terms on which eternal life is to be obtained, but is showing the righteous rule according to which God acts. On that ground all were lost.
Even so, the words stand as they are. When someone reads them and decides that good people will collect their reward, the reply is blunt:
But I say to him, "You are wrong entirely; there is none good but God." There is plenty of scripture to meet such a case, but we need not weaken this sentence in Romans to do it. God's own nature makes it necessary: a man must have a certain life and character in him to be with God… You must have that life and walk in that life, or you will not be in heaven.
If none is good but God, who is left to receive glory, honour, and peace?
The believer is the only one who works good, and so the only one who possesses glory, honour, and peace… It is the fruit of His own grace. It is not in man to direct his steps, and there is no good in him, except when faith enables him to do God's good pleasure. Without faith it is impossible to please Him.
- Standard. God's rule is fixed, and verse 10 is its bright half: He gives good to the one who does good.
- Portion. The one who does good receives glory, honour and peace, and God shows His attitude toward him in eternal life.
- Reality. God weighs the actual walk, not profession or inherited privilege. He weighs not only evil done, but truth despised.
- Order. "To the Jew first" gives priority in both warning and blessing. More light means responsibility comes first, never a lighter verdict.
- Result. No favouritism: one exact award for each. By this rule everyone is lost, and only faith in God works the good He rewards.
for there is no acceptance of persons with God.
God ends His argument about the coming day of judgment with one short rule. It lands on Jew and Gentile alike. Older translations put it, "there is no respect of persons with God." The question is simple. Could anything about you tilt God's verdict in your favour?
Verses 6 to 11 lay out how God will deal with people in that day, and verse 11 is the last of the principles named. It cuts off the two excuses each side was holding.
This leads to the fourth great principle of God's judgment: in judgment "There is no respect of persons with God". God still keeps the place He has given the Jew. Yet God shows no partiality. So the Jew will not escape because he is a privileged Jew. And the Gentile will not be able to plead that he is only a poor ignorant Gentile.
We know how this works in human courts. The guilty sometimes walk free.
In some countries today respect of persons provides an escape route for the undoubted criminal. Favouritism does its work, or other influences behind the scenes, or bribery comes into play. So the offender escapes the penalty he deserves. It will never be like this with God.
Status, background and reputation are the currency people trade in.
Who can influence God on his behalf? Who can plead his personal prominence, importance, earthly position or advantage before the only true God? None of it matters to Him: "God accepts no man's person." Personalities may count for a great deal in the proud, empty judgment of man. But let no one think he can pass God's scrutiny wearing such a cloak.
Being impartial does not mean God ignores what a person was given. Light received works the opposite way from what people expect.
Such are His ways. Time, place and people make no basic difference with Him. There is one exception: having privileges brings a prior responsibility with it, and this is plainly just. If a man who enjoys religious light works out evil despite it, is he less guilty than his less favoured fellow-sinner?
The same distinction carries into the next verse, about the law.
This brings out the important principle, that, in rendering to every man his deeds, God takes into account the measure of light a man has had. We have already seen that when it is a question of the sin, God measures it by the truth of what He is. But when it is a question of measuring out punishment to the sinner, God takes into account the privileges he may have had under the law, or in some other way.
Put verse 11 beside the two earlier statements about God's judging. Every loophole is gone.
Suppose His judgment sometimes went by mere outward appearances. Suppose it now and then fell short of strict righteousness, or bent because of favouritism or other personal considerations. Then there might be some chance of escape. It is however "according to truth," and so it will drag the exact reality of things into the light of day. It is "righteous," and so absolute and inflexible justice will prevail. There is "no respect of persons." So nothing will turn God from a judgment of absolute righteousness in the light of absolute truth.
The rule that flattens everyone under judgment also flattens everyone at the point of mercy.
On the one hand sin is a great leveller in the presence of His eternal judgment. On the other hand grace levels just as much, but in the opposite direction. There it is a question of the value of Christ and His work, which brings souls into His presence in favour and in peace. Alike lost in sins, we are alike saved from them by the faith of Jesus.
Scripture applies the same rule to those who employ and those who serve. It speaks first to the one with power.
Masters are urged to remember that their Master is in heaven, and that "neither is there respect of persons with Him." He notes threats and oppression. The cry of the poor and needy comes up in His ears, and He will repay it in the coming day. I believe this verse should read, "their Master and yours is in the heavens." That adds an important point. Both master and servant answer to the one Lord, and will stand together at the same judgment seat.
- Level ground. The privileged cannot claim exemption. The ignorant cannot claim excuse. Both stand on one footing before God.
- Level standard. No fame, position or advantage carries weight with Him. What buys favour in a human court buys nothing in His.
- Level, not identical. Impartial does not mean blind. God weighs the light each person was given, and privilege raises responsibility instead of lowering it.
- Level, so no escape. God judges by truth, in righteousness, and without partiality — three walls with no gap between them.
- Level in grace too. Sin levels all under judgment. Grace levels all in Christ — alike lost, alike saved through faith in Jesus.
For as many as have sinned without law shall perish also without law; and as many as have sinned under law shall be judged by law,
Paul has just said that God shows no favouritism. So how can God judge people who never received His written law, and does that law shelter the people who had it?
The verse sets two groups side by side. The one who received more from God has more to answer for.
If first in privilege, he will be first in judgment too. Can he face the responsibility that comes with the wonderful things God has done for him? God will judge him by the very law it is his privilege to have. But the Gentile without law will be judged apart from law: God will not hold him responsible for knowledge he never had.
The verse puts two different words in play. Breaking a known command is one thing; sin is wider than that.
All breaking of the law is sin, but sin is far from being only the breaking of law. So Scripture calls the Jews "transgressors," because they in particular were under law. It calls the Gentiles "sinners," not "transgressors" — which they would have to be if all men were alike under law. But Rom. 2:12 clearly disproves that, because it separates Gentiles from Jews on that very ground… If Gentiles had no law, they had conscience, which made them feel guilty when they abandoned a natural duty, as the same passage shows.
Having no law sounds like an advantage until you read the verb attached to it. Paul does not say these people escape. He says they perish.
The Gentiles did not have the law, and so they sinned without law. They cannot escape the righteous judgment of God. They had the witness in creation, as seen from the first chapter. Besides this there is conscience, and it testifies of what sin is. They have the knowledge of good and evil, and so they are morally responsible. They turned from God, and they will be judged apart from the law. But it is more than that: they "will also perish without the law." That answers the teaching that the mercy of God somehow covers the heathen world and that the heathen are not lost.
If not the law, then what will the standard be for those outside it? And does the same sentence hang over the Christian?
The Gentiles sinned "without law"; they never received the law. God will judge them by the light He gave in creation, in natural conscience, and in His goodness shown through His providence. They shall perish, for they have been utterly unfaithful to the light granted to them. The Jews received the law, and the law will judge them. Christians are not expected to come into judgment. If they were truly what they profess to be, they would not come into judgment, for in Christ the believer is already justified from all things.
The Jew read this verse expecting his position to shelter him. It does the opposite.
In every case God will judge righteously. But greater privilege brings deeper obligation, and judgment that is strict in the same measure… So the Jew has no built-in claim of exemption in the day of judgment, as he liked to hope. Unlike the Gentiles, that people stood as God's witness on earth. That very standing makes them liable to closer scrutiny. For God is not dealing here by outward blows on the nations. He is dealing with the heart and its ways in His sight, however hidden from man.
- Light — God judges each person by the light he had. The Gentile had creation, conscience and God's goodness. The Jew had the written law.
- Level — Different measures, one result. Scripture calls the Gentile a sinner and the Jew a transgressor. Both stand guilty.
- Loophole — Ignorance is no escape hatch. The word is not "excused" but "perish." Those who never heard are not safe by default.
- Load — Privilege raises the standard; it never softens it. The greater the light, the closer the scrutiny in the day of judgment.
- Liberty — The one exit is not a lower standard but Christ. In Him the believer is already justified from all things and does not come into this judgment.
(for not the hearers of the law [are] just before God, but the doers of the law shall be justified.
Paul is showing that God judges Jew and Gentile alike. Here he removes the one defence a religious person leans on hardest: knowing the law. That raises a problem. If doers of the law are justified, how can the same letter later say that the law justifies no one?
The verse sorts people by what they do, not by what they have. Hearing the law was the Jew's privilege. It was not his acquittal.
If Gentiles (to whom the law was never given) have sinned, they will be judged without the law. If Jews, who received the law, sinned against God, they will be judged by the law. Judgment follows in both cases. The mere hearing of the law in the case of the Jew was no advantage to him if he did not keep it. If he was to be justified before God on the ground of his own doings, he must keep the whole law — not just hear it. Thousands hear it but do not do it. They cannot be justified before God.
Paul's argument is heading to one verdict. Owning the law does not exempt anyone from it.
The apostle's purpose in all this is the opposite: it is to bring all men in guilty before God. The law does not justify hearers — if it did, a Jew might well congratulate himself. It justifies doers: "the doers of the law ... will be justified." Later we will hear the law's sweeping sentence on everyone: "by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight, since through the law comes knowledge of sin." Paul does not say this yet. Here he appeals to the conscience of the Jew, who prides himself on knowing and owning a law he took no care to keep.
The verse states a principle. Whether anyone ever met it is a separate matter.
Law does not bring in justification in the Christian faith. We are justified by faith, not by works of law, which bring a curse. But is a man who keeps the Law justified? Of course he is. A man who only hears it and breaks it is not. Nothing could be simpler. Whether anyone ever kept it — except the Lord — is another question.
Put law and grace side by side, and they rule each other out:
"The doers of the law ... will be justified," Rom. 2:13. But if, on the other hand, salvation is "by grace, it is no longer on the basis of works; otherwise grace would no longer be grace," Rom. 11:6. The conclusion is that "by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight." No one can be saved on that principle.
Verses 13 to 15 are a side note. Paul's sentence runs from verse 12 on to verse 16.
He stated that those who have sinned under the law will be judged by the law, on the day when God judges by Jesus Christ. Those who have sinned without the light of the law will not answer for that light. Still, they will perish. Verses 13 to 15 are a side note, you notice. To get the sense, read on from verse 12 to verse 16.
God does not measure every person by the same rule.
The Bible is completely clear. One nation was said to be under law. The rest of mankind had no such position, though they were responsible on their own basis. In the day of judgment God will, by Jesus Christ, deal with the Jew according to the law, and with the Gentiles who do not have the law according to conscience. By the same principle, He will deal with professing Christians according to gospel light. There is no hint that all are judged by the measure given to Israel.
A measuring tool can show a fault. It cannot mend it.
The law does convict of sin, for "through the law comes knowledge of sin". But it cannot remove the sins, or free us from the power of sin. The law is only a plumb-line that shows how crooked the wall is. Holding a plumb-line against a crooked wall will never make it straight. In the same way, the law can never justify a guilty sinner. So the law shows us that we are not only sinners before God, but helpless sinners.
- Hearing. Owning the law and hearing it gives no standing before God. Only keeping all of it could do that, and thousands hear it without doing it.
- Boasting. Paul aims the verse at the conscience of the man who prides himself on owning a standard he never cared to keep.
- Principle. God would justify a law-keeper. The open question is whether anyone except the Lord ever kept it.
- Measure. God judges each person by the light given: the Jew by law, the Gentile by conscience, the professing Christian by gospel light.
- Outcome. The law is a plumb-line: it proves the wall crooked and leaves it crooked, so justification must come by grace, not works.
For when [those of the] nations, which have no law, practise by nature the things of the law, these, having no law, are a law to themselves;
Paul has just said that God shows no partiality, which raises an obvious question: how can God judge people who never received His law? Verse 14 answers it, and everything turns on two phrases — doing "by nature" what the law requires, and being "a law to themselves."
A division runs through the whole chapter: God gave the law to some people, not to others. One commentator warns against flattening it in the name of God's consistency.
There is one true God who gave His law. He made all men and He will judge them all. So many people assume that all alike are under that law and will be judged by it. They think no other way is possible without staining God's truth, righteousness, authority, and honour. But the apostle shows at length, as an undeniable truth here and elsewhere, that there were men without law, as surely as others were under law. Who they were is just as clear: Gentiles had no law, Jews had. This was a main part of the different ground on which each group would be tried.
The phrase is easily misread as a back-door way of putting everyone under the law after all. One writer answers that objection head-on.
I know it is urged that they were a law to themselves where they had none, because they had a conscience; but this only proves that actual righteousness by conscience is better than having a law and breaking it. Scripture contrasts being under law and being without law, and knows nothing of these speculations. Scripture uses the word law as absolutely as words can, and it declares that the Gentiles are without it — they have no law at all. It does say that everyone has a conscience which tells him of right and wrong.
The Gentile has a plea of his own, and it fails too.
It would be useless for the Gentile moralists to plead that they do not have the law. In fact the Gentile needs no law to tell him not to murder, not to steal, not to bear false witness. His own nature tells him these things are wrong, and therefore he is a law to himself.
Notice what Paul says is written on the heart, and what he does not say.
The apostle points to particular cases where the Gentiles did the things contained in the law. In those cases they show the work of the law written in their hearts. Paul does not say the law is written there. He says instead that the particular act the law required was shown to be on their conscience... The expression "law written on the heart by nature" should startle anyone who knows the truth of God... The force of the sentence is that there was something written, proved by the deed done.
Verses 13 to 15 are a parenthesis. Its sting lands on the person holding the law, not on the person without it.
The apostle speaks of the Gentiles who "do not have the law, by nature do what the law requires" and so "are a law to themselves." He is reasoning in the first place like this: if you have the law and do not keep it, the Gentiles who have not the law but keep it are better than you. But as Gentiles they are also without excuse. The testimony of creation condemns them, and so does this: when they had the knowledge of God, they would not hold on to it. I will tell you the result of a pagan living up to his conscience, if you will first show me one who has.
The verse never becomes a second road to acceptance with God. It closes an escape route.
The parenthesis shows us that many of the things the law demanded were of such a kind that men knew in their hearts they were wrong. No law had to be given for that. Go where you will, and you find that even the most degraded men have some natural light or instinct about what is right and wrong. They also have conscience, and thoughts that either accuse or excuse. So there is a ground of judgment against them apart from the law.
- Without law. Gentiles were never placed under the law of Moses. That fixed distinction holds the whole passage together, and it sets the different ground on which each group is judged.
- Not lawless. Having no law is not the same as having no light. Every person carries a conscience telling him right from wrong, so he is a law to himself.
- The work, not the law. Paul points to the work of the law on the heart, proved by the deed done. He never says the law itself is written there by nature.
- The point aimed at the Jew. If a man without the law does what it requires, the man who owns the law and breaks it is left with no boast.
- Judgment, not escape. This natural light gives a real ground of judgment apart from the law; it opens no way of escape.
who shew the work of the law written in their hearts, their conscience also bearing witness, and their thoughts accusing or else excusing themselves between themselves;)
Paul has just said that people who never received the law of Moses can still, by nature, do what the law requires. Verse 15 explains how. The law's demand is already written inside them, their conscience speaks, and their own thoughts argue both sides.
Commentators stress one word: Paul says the work of the law is written in Gentile hearts, not the law itself:
It would be strange indeed, and would say little for Christianity, if the heathen had what the Epistle to the Hebrews (Heb. 10:15-16) calls one of the great and distinctive blessings of the New Covenant... What Paul really teaches is this. Such doing was scanty and rare, but whenever Gentiles do by nature the things of the law, they show the law's work written in their hearts. For instance, suppose a heathen somehow works out that he must honour his parents. He may never have heard of the law, yet this is a law to him.
If the law itself is not written there, what is?
The work of the law is conviction. Conscience does this work in the person who does not have the law, though far less fully. "Through the law comes knowledge of sin," and conscience gives every person a measure of that knowledge. In that respect those who do not have the law are "a law to themselves." If they had a law, they would not be a law to themselves.
The second witness in the verse is conscience. The word points to knowledge shared with someone else:
God has revealed a standard in His word, and man's conscience tells him how utterly evil he is. Once a person has heard the word of God, we cannot separate God from conscience. Our moral instinct and our sense of right and wrong bear witness to the unseen God. Within us there is something that knows together with God.
Yet the verse says conscience bears witness. It does not say conscience saves. A conscience can also go badly wrong:
Conscience is a useful monitor, but it is too open to influence and pressure to be a reliable guide. Conscience may become "seared" (1 Tim. 4:2). What is it worth then? Saul of Tarsus shed the blood of Christians with a perfectly good conscience, convinced that he ought to oppose the name of Jesus of Nazareth (Acts 23:1; Acts 24:9). The unenlightened heathen have consciences that bear witness to them (Rom. 2:15), yet they debase themselves with idolatry.
The last clause describes thoughts that argue on both sides. The habit is as old as the first sin:
Eve admitted she had eaten from the tree, but she blamed the serpent. What she said was true, for the serpent did deceive her. Yet she was clearly trying to shift the blame off herself. Romans 2:15 throws much light on this. We have to add one thing, though. Apart from the working of the Spirit of God in the conscience, sinful men always tend to indulge in "accusing" others and "excusing" themselves.
This inner argument settles nothing. It exposes people further:
Even those without law have a conscience that bears witness to their sin, while their ability to judge others and their attempts to cover their own sin by excuses only expose them more fully. Their thoughts accuse or else excuse one another. Either they take a hard, legal spirit over the sins of others, or a lightness that glosses it over with excuses. But accusation will not atone for sin, and excuses will not put it away... For God can put sin away, while all my accusing or excusing is shallow, wretched vanity.
The point of the verse is not to praise the moral heathen. It is to close the last exit before judgment.
The Gentiles, though they never received the law, still had consciences. Sin was sinful even before the law came. Natural conscience accuses a man of sin if he kills another, even if he never heard of the ten commandments. This shows that the work of the law — its moral demand — is in every man's conscience. Sin is everywhere sinful to God, law or no law. And men will be judged according to God's thoughts of sin when the day arrives. He will judge the secrets of men. How solemn!
So by what standard does God judge someone who never had the law?
In judgment the question is not privilege but faithfulness to what we know or may know. It is not the hearers of the law who are righteous before God, but the doers of the law who will be justified.
- Work, not law. The work of the law is written on the heart. People feel its demand without ever owning its text.
- Work means conviction. That work does what the law does: it gives some knowledge of sin — less complete, but real.
- Conviction reaches everyone. People who never heard the ten commandments still know right from wrong.
- A witness only. Conscience testifies but cannot rescue. It can grow seared, and it can live alongside idolatry.
- Verdict, not rescue. Accusing and excusing settle nothing. Accusation cannot atone, and excuses cannot remove sin. What remains is the day when God judges the secrets of men.
in [the] day when God shall judge the secrets of men, according to my glad tidings, by Jesus Christ.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
But if *thou* art named a Jew, and restest in the law, and makest thy boast in God,
Paul has already taken up the Gentiles and proved them guilty. Now he turns to the man with the best religious credentials — a name, a law, and God to boast in — and asks whether any of it will hold when God judges the heart.
This verse opens a new section. Until now Paul has aimed the charge elsewhere. Here he turns to the man who carries the religious name — and says who really carries it.
In Romans 2:17 the apostle begins definitely with a Jew, insisting on the same truth, but the opposite of what he had said of the Gentile. A Jew who boasted of the law and broke it was as bad as the man who had none; the Gentiles blasphemed the name of God because of them. He alone was a Jew who was one inwardly; whose heart was circumcised in spirit, not in letter; whose praise came not from men, but from God.
The privileges themselves were real, and the list is a long one.
Then come the proofs of what man is. First the Gentiles, and then from Romans 2:17 the Jew, with his privileges: the law, circumcision, yes, the very words of God given to him. So we see "None is righteous, no, not one." The very law, which was the boast of the Jew, is that which condemned him.
Older translations open the verse with "Behold." Commentators say the true reading is "But if," and the verse belongs with the judgment Paul has just described.
God will judge the Gentile by conscience, the Jew by law, in the day when God judges the secrets of the heart, according to Paul's gospel. God will show no favour to the circumcised... He will have realities. The judgment spoken of here reaches the secrets of the heart. It is not outward and earthly. "But if" — for that is the true reading, and not "behold" in Romans 2:17.
The law was a real gift. The mistake was what he did with it. (The ESV reads "rely on the law"; the older wording quoted here reads "rest in the law.")
He made, however, one great mistake. He treated the law as something in which he could boast, and so it fed his pride. Says the Apostle, "you... rest in the law and boast in God." He did not realise that the law was not given to him as something to rest in, but as something to act as a test.
He used the same law in two opposite ways.
True, he had the form of knowledge and truth in the law, but it all worked like a two-edged sword. He was so busy turning its sharp edge against other people that he missed how it applied to himself. For others he treated it as a standard — a plumb-line or spirit level. For himself he thought it a personal ornament, a feather to stick in his cap. Do not be surprised that he did this, because it is just what we all do naturally. We take pride in our privileges and forget the responsibilities that come with them.
Boasting in God sounds like the best thing a person could do. Here it goes wrong.
The Jew — the favoured, privileged Jew — sinned grievously in this way. Romans 2 convicted him on this ground. His separation from the nations came from God. He should have used it to witness to God's holiness in a corrupt world that had turned against Him. Instead he used it as a chance to exalt himself. He boasted in God and in the law; but he dishonoured God by breaking the law.
Romans does not leave the reader here.
One view of the first five chapters of the Epistle to the Romans sees them as the leading of a soul from a false joy in God in 2:17 to a true joy in God in 5:11. The false joy is all brought to nothing. In its place comes justification by faith and the love of God, so that "we also rejoice in God through our Lord Jesus Christ" (Romans 5:11).
Commentators apply the same words to religious people today.
We have only to read these verses to see how exactly they describe the religious man, whether Jew or professing Christian. Change the name Jew to Christian, and law to Bible, and we have an exact description of the Christian profession. The professing Christian boasts that he is called a Christian and not a pagan. He boasts that he has the Bible and knows the true God. He boasts that the Bible teaches him what is right.
- Name. From this verse on, Paul puts the man with the religious name on trial. The name was never a defence.
- Rest. God gave the law as a test, not a resting place. Leaning on it was resting where no rest was possible.
- Boast. God set them apart to witness to His holiness. They used the privilege to exalt themselves instead.
- Reality. God judges the secrets of the heart. He will have realities, and no outward name covers what is inside.
- Replacement. The false joy in God here gives way to the true joy in God of Romans 5:11, through justification by faith.
and knowest the will, and discerningly approvest the things that are more excellent, being instructed out of the law;
Paul has been pressing the conscience of the pagan world, and now he turns to the Jew, who holds a revelation from God and can tell right from wrong because of it. Does knowing God's will, and being able to judge what is best, make a man right with God?
From verse 17 onward the argument shifts. Paul stops speaking to humanity in general and takes up the man with real, God-given advantages — including the trained judgment this verse describes.
The apostle now takes another step in his appeal to conscience. He speaks next to the Jew, and no longer groups him with the Gentile only. Did the Jew value himself on his unique place among men? Did he value himself on holding a revelation from God, on the true God as his God, on the knowledge of His will, and on his resulting ability to test the things that differ and so decide for the more excellent? Grant that it was all true. How did the Jew then stand? The greater the privilege, the less excusable he was, if he proved unfaithful to the light he had and as bad as the heathen he despised.
The verse sits inside a rising list of boasts. The last of them is that his light came from a written revelation, not from hearsay.
To show what the religious Jew is responsible for, the Apostle lists the advantages the Jew has and boasts in. The Jew takes his stand on being a privileged Jew, set apart from the Gentiles. Next he rests on having a divinely given law. Then he boasts that he has the knowledge of the true God. Further, he boasts that he knows the will of God, and that he can approve the things that are excellent, because the law has taught him… He also has the form of knowledge and of the truth, embodied in the law. For the light he has, he does not depend on tradition passed by word of mouth.
The advantages were genuine. The problem was how the man held them: as a measure of his standing, not as a call to obey.
The Jew with his knowledge of the will of God did no better than the moralist among the Gentiles. He was very far from being an open rebel. Yet he completely misunderstood his own condition, and so he misunderstood the character of that law on which he "rested" — where no true rest was possible. He owned God and His law, but not with a heart subject enough to give Him the obedience due. He held them instead as things that raised his position above all other men… In fact, he had the form of knowledge and of the truth as the law gave it; but the breath of life was absent from the form.
Paul does not deny the privileges. He turns them around, so that the very thing the man leaned on becomes the measure of his failure.
If he had a conscience, he had to admit that he was more guilty than the Gentile. If he had none, his lack of feeling would not make his sin and folly any less obvious to all who fear God and judge people rightly. On his own showing, his boasted knowledge of the law brought him no saving power. Whatever fuel it gave to his arrogant misuse of it in contempt of others, it saved nothing in himself.
The verse is not a piece of ancient history. Swap two words and the portrait is current.
These verses describe the religious man exactly, whether Jew or professing Christian. Change the name Jew to Christian, and law to Bible, and we have an exact description of the Christian profession. The professing Christian boasts that people call him a Christian and not a heathen. He boasts that he has the Bible and the knowledge of the true God. The Bible teaches him what is right, so he can send out missionaries to teach the heathen.
Believers are meant to know God's will too. They stand on different ground when they do.
We see, then, how important it is to prove what the will of God is, what is good and acceptable and perfect. Then, being "filled with the knowledge of His will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding," we may "walk in a manner worthy of the Lord, fully pleasing to Him" (Col. 1:9). Setting this aside is what brought condemnation on the religious boaster of Romans 2:18… He belonged to Israel and to law; we belong to Christ and to grace… "If anyone's will is to do God's will, he will know whether the teaching is from God," said the Lord (John 7:17).
- Privilege. The verse names real, God-given advantages: he knows God's will, and he can judge what is best. Both came from Scripture, not from hearsay.
- Posture. He held those advantages as a mark of superiority, not as a call to obey. The form of knowledge was there, but "the breath of life was absent from the form."
- Powerlessness. Knowledge of the law brought no saving power to the man who had it, however much it fed his contempt for others.
- Reversal. The ground of the boast becomes the measure of the guilt. Greater light means less excuse, not more safety.
- Present. Change "Jew" to "Christian" and "law" to "Bible" and the portrait still fits. The cure is not to know less of His will, but to know it on the ground of Christ and grace.
and hast confidence that thou thyself art a leader of the blind, a light of those who [are] in darkness,
Paul has just exposed the nations who never had God's law. Now he turns to the people who did, and lists back to them the titles they were proud of. The verse raises one question: does being sure you can lead others put you right with God?
The list of advantages is not a compliment. It is a set-up:
Did the Jew value himself on his unique place among men, on his possession of a divine revelation, on the true God as his God, and on the knowledge of His will? Did he assume a conscious superiority to his Gentile neighbours? He was confident that he stood on ground that let him look down on the wisest of other nations as merely blind, and in the dark, and foolish, and babies. They lacked that embodiment of knowledge and truth which the law gave him. Suppose all this was so. How was it with the Jew in fact? The greater the privilege, the less excusable if he was unfaithful to the light he had and as bad as the heathen he despised.
Each phrase needs someone underneath it: someone blind, someone in the dark, someone foolish.
So too he gloried in God, as the One who had made the Jew the storehouse of all the light and knowledge in the world. He owned God and His law, but not with a heart in subjection to render Him the obedience due. He owned them as things that added to the loftiness of his position compared with all other men. For him the Gentiles were just the blind, walking in darkness, foolish as undeveloped babies. The Jew was the full treasury of all that the Gentile lacked.
These titles were not made up. God had truly given this nation the light. But the description and the reality did not match:
The nation and its people should truly have been what they prided themselves on being — a light to those who were in darkness (Rom. 2:19). But it was otherwise. The light within them was darkness. And where that was so, how great was that darkness!
The sharpest irony came when the true light arrived. Those who claimed to lead the blind could not see:
They were not only in darkness — they loved it. They were not only blind, but angry with the One who would have healed them. The Lord had come so that those who do not see might see. But the Jews refused to admit any such thing and gloried in themselves... they were so infatuated, so under the power of the enemy who blinds the minds of the unbelieving (2 Cor. 4:4), that they did more than claim to see for themselves. They claimed to be guides to the blind and lights to those in darkness (Rom. 2:19).
The law gave a real form of knowledge and truth. But a form can be exact and still do nothing inside a person:
The law was like a schoolmaster who hands the same code of rules to every pupil — very firm, very clear and well printed. Yet he offers them no help at all in putting those rules into effect. Grace teaches in a far more effective way. Grace is just as clear about everything it commands, and it sets an even higher standard than the law demanded. But it adds one thing: it works IN us.
Paul does not argue with the list. He turns it into questions:
You have been boasting of teaching others — do you teach yourself? What about your practice? You preach to others that they should not steal: do you steal? ... What about God? You boast in the knowledge of God; do you honour God?
This is not about one nation only. Swap two words and the portrait fits us:
Change the name Jew to Christian, and law to Bible, and we have an exact description of the christian profession. The professing Christian boasts that people call him a Christian and not a heathen. He boasts that he has the Bible and the knowledge of the true God. The Bible teaches him what is right, so he is able to send out missionaries to instruct the heathen.
The advantages are real gifts. The danger is what people do with them:
How presumptuous man can be! He takes the advantages and privileges God kindly gave him and turns them into occasions of self-exaltation and of belittling others — like those "who trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and treated others with contempt" (Luke 18:9).
- Gift. God gave the light. He made this people the storehouse of the knowledge the world lacked.
- Twist. The gift became a measuring stick. Every title in the verse needs someone blind, dark, foolish or childish underneath it.
- Form. They held a form of knowledge and truth. It was clear as a rulebook, but gave no help to obey it. Only grace works inside a person.
- Test. Paul answers the boast with questions, not arguments: do you teach yourself, do you honour God?
- Mirror. Change "Jew" to "Christian" and "law" to "Bible", and the description still fits. Privilege becomes self-exaltation and contempt for others.
an instructor of the foolish, a teacher of babes, having the form of knowledge and of truth in the law
The verse ends a list of titles the Jew claimed: guide, light, instructor, teacher. They all rest on one thing. He holds the shape of knowledge and truth in the law. Paul lets the claim stand. Then he asks, in the next verse, whether the man who teaches everyone else has ever taught himself.
Verses 17-20 list what the religious Jew boasted in. One writer sets out where these titles came from:
To show the responsibilities of the religious Jew, the Apostle describes the advantages which belong to the Jew, and in which he boasts. Being a Jew, and having the law, he assumes to guide the blind, to give light to those in darkness, to instruct the foolish and teach the ignorant. Moreover, he has the form of knowledge, and of the truth, embodied in the law. He is not dependent, for the light that he has, upon mere tradition handed down from mouth to mouth.
"Foolish" and "children" are how this man saw everyone outside his own nation. Where the ESV says "embodiment", older translations read "form": real shape, but no life inside it:
The Gentiles were for him only the blind, walking in darkness, foolish as undeveloped babes. The Jew was the full treasury of everything the Gentile lacked. In fact, he had the form of knowledge and of the truth as the law gave it. But the breath of life was absent from the form. In his morals he contradicted his own teaching, glorying in law and breaking it. So the light he held only showed his misdeeds more plainly. It dishonoured the name of his God among the Gentiles, as He Himself had declared through His prophets (Isa. 52:5).
The law really did teach. That is why "teacher" and "instructor" were fair titles. But its teaching stopped where the pupil needed help:
There was of course teaching of a sort under the law, for the Jew had "the form of knowledge and of the truth in the law" (Rom. 2:20). It consisted in the clear laying down of what was right and what was wrong. The law was like a schoolmaster who hands the same code of rules to every pupil. The rules are very strict, very clear and well printed. Yet he offers his pupils no help at all in putting those rules into effect. Grace teaches in a far more effective way. Grace is just as clear about everything it commands. The standard it sets is even higher than the law demanded. But there is this in addition: it works IN us.
A standard can be pointed two ways. The same writer shows which way this man pointed his:
True, he had the form of knowledge and truth in the law, but it all acted as a two-edged sword. He had been so busy turning its keen edge against other people that he entirely overlooked its application to himself. He viewed it for others as a standard — as a plumb-line or spirit level — but for himself he thought it a personal adornment, a feather to be stuck in his cap.
Nicodemus was a religious teacher who came to Jesus by night. One writer reads that visit through this phrase:
Was he not one of those who, by profession, rested in the law, and found in it a form of knowledge and truth? But coming to Jesus by night is not the fruit of resting in the law, nor in anything else. It had not brought him out of nature's darkness. Could the form of truth and knowledge in the law satisfy a soul when it thought of God, or found itself in spirit before Him? … Jesus pierces the layers of profession, and finds at the bottom only a man.
Swap two words and the description lands closer to home:
We have only to read these verses to see how exactly they describe the religious man, whether Jew or professing Christian. Change the name Jew to Christian, and law to Bible, and we have an exact description of the Christian profession. The professing Christian boasts that people call him a Christian, and that he is not a heathen. He boasts that he has the Bible and the knowledge of the true God. The Bible instructs him as to what is right, so he is able to send out missionaries to instruct the heathen.
- Form — The law really did hold the shape of knowledge and truth. The problem was never the law. The breath of life was missing from the form.
- Form as boast — Real privilege became a list of titles: guide, light, instructor, teacher. The man filed everyone else away as blind, dark and foolish.
- Form without help — The law posted the rules and gave no help in keeping them. Grace sets an even higher standard, and works inside the person.
- Form under test — The man used the standard as a measuring line for others and as an ornament for himself. So the light he held only exposed him.
- Form pierced — Christ looks past the titles and finds only a man. Change "Jew" to "Christian" and "law" to "Bible", and the portrait still fits.
thou then that teachest another, dost thou not teach thyself? thou that preachest not to steal, dost thou steal?
Paul has just listed what the Jew was proud of: the law, the knowledge of God's will, and the right to teach others (vv. 17–20). Now he turns each of those advantages into a question. The first one lands closest to home: the man who teaches everyone else has never taught himself.
Verse 21 turns the argument round. Everything the Jew held as a credential now becomes the measure that tests him.
The test is applied to him from verse 21 to the end of the chapter. He comes out of it with his reputation utterly shattered. True, he had the form of knowledge and truth in the law, but it all acted as a two-edged sword. He was so busy turning its sharp edge against other people that he overlooked how it applied to himself. For others he treated the law as a standard, a measuring line. For himself he treated it as an ornament, a feather to stick in his cap.
The same knowledge that made him confident leaves him without defence.
By his own account, the law he boasted of knowing brought him no saving power. It gave him fuel only for misusing it arrogantly, in contempt of others. Who, then, dishonoured God more openly?
Paul is not opening a discussion. He shapes each question so that only one honest answer is left.
Each question in verses 21, 22 and 23 is like a sword-thrust. To each implied accusation the Jew had to plead guilty. He had the law truly, but by breaking it he dishonoured God, whose law it was. Their guilt was so open that Gentiles looked at the Jews and blasphemed God, the very God they represented.
The questions move through one area of the religious man's life after another.
Addressing the religious man, the Apostle asks, as it were, What about yourself? You have been boasting of teaching others, do you teach yourself? What about your practice? You preach to others that they should not steal: Do you steal? … What about God? You boast in the knowledge of God; Do you honour God?
Teaching puts a man on record as knowing what is right.
Like the Gentiles, he had a conscience that condemned evil in others. But he also had the Word of God, and he taught others about good and evil. Yet he did not keep what he gloried in teaching. This is the most plainly manifested guilt of all. For to teach the truth is more than to know it; so that the responsibility of the teacher is a grave one indeed.
God does not forget the words a teacher aims at other people.
God is not mocked. He remembers words said lightly — words we might press on others, with little or no thought of our own need. "You then who teach others, do you not teach yourself?" Judgment grows heavier in every way if teaching does not flow from love and in the fear of God.
The verse states a rule that Christ Himself kept before He ever confronted evil in anyone else.
What is the first thing any man ought to do before he speaks to another? Speak to himself. Do not speak to another and carry a careless heart yourself. "While you preach against stealing, do you steal?" … Now, before the Lord goes to attack Satan, He must withstand Satan. He lets him see that he has nothing in Him. If I take part in evil, I cannot rebuke it.
The warning does not stop at formal teachers. It reaches every believer who judges someone else.
We may try to apply it to other people. We sit in judgment on others — on our fellow Christians, or perhaps on the men of the world. But "you who teach others, do you not teach yourself?" The sword of the Spirit does not cut only those whose faults we can see. It cuts us as well.
The questions do not stop with the Jew who first heard them.
Change the name Jew to Christian, and law to Bible, and we have an exact description of the Christian profession. The professing Christian boasts that he is called a Christian and is not a pagan. He has the Bible and the knowledge of the true God. The Bible teaches him what is right, so he can send out missionaries to instruct those who do not know God.
- Privilege — the advantages of verses 17–20 now become the standard that measures the man who holds them.
- Test — every question from verse 21 forces a guilty plea. Knowing the law gave no power to keep it.
- Weight — to teach truth is more than to know it, so the teacher's failure is the plainest guilt of all.
- Order — speak to yourself before you speak to another; a man taking part in an evil cannot rebuke it.
- Reality — a religious name cannot cover a life that contradicts it. The claim may tower over the pagan world while the practice is no better.
thou that sayest [man should] not commit adultery, dost thou commit adultery? thou that abhorrest idols, dost thou commit sacrilege?
Paul is talking to a religious man who is sure he can teach everyone else. Two questions here turn that teaching back on him: he condemns adultery and hates idols in public, but what does he do in private?
The verse belongs to a short run of questions, and each one is aimed at a specific claim the man has made. Read as a group, they do not invite discussion; they force an admission.
Each question in verses 21, 22 and 23 is like a sword-thrust. To each implied accusation the Jew had to plead guilty. He had the law truly, but by breaking it he dishonoured God, whose law it was.
The questions are not random. They move through separate areas of life: what a man does, who he keeps company with, and how he treats what is holy. The last question here reads "do you rob temples," while older translations have "do you commit sacrilege." One writer ties it to how this man deals with the idol-worshipping world he says he despises.
(3) What about the world? You claim to approve the things that are better: do you form unholy alliances with the world? Do you commit adultery? (4) What about the idol-worshipping nations? You claim to hate idols; do you commit sacrilege?
Another writer groups the same charges under three headings, and names the worst damage they do.
Here the Jew stands accused before God of three things: 1. evil work (v. 21); 2. evil walk, or the company he keeps; and 3. evil worship (v. 22). On every one of them he gives the finest teaching. And this brings the most serious issue right to the front: of all people, it was the Jew who had brought direct dishonour on the Name of God.
The man is not accused of ignorance. He knows the law well enough to quote it at other people. That is where his knowledge stops.
It is true that he had the form of knowledge and truth in the law, but it all worked like a two-edged sword. He was so busy turning its sharp edge against other people that he missed how it applied to himself. For others he treated the law as a measuring tool — a plumb line or a spirit level. For himself he treated it as a decoration, a feather to stick in his cap.
Teaching others does not lower the standard. It raises it.
To teach the truth is more than to know it, so the teacher carries a serious responsibility. James has good reason to tell us: "Not many of you should become teachers, my brothers, for you know that we who teach will be judged with greater strictness" (James 3:1).
His advantages do not soften the charge. Set beside his own conduct, they make it worse.
If he had a conscience, he had to admit he was more guilty than the Gentile. If he had none, his deadness to it did not make his sin and folly any less obvious to everyone who fears God and judges people rightly. By his own account, his boasted knowledge of the law brought him no saving power. It only gave him fuel for using the law arrogantly to look down on others.
Paul is writing about one people here, but one writer takes the questions wider. Anyone who lectures others while doing the same thing stands in the same place.
The man who preaches morals, whether Jew or Gentile, may in his proud and corrupt heart condemn all this in his neighbour. But God does not let him off for that, if he does the same things he condemns in others… So whether it was the Jew teaching the law or the Gentile teaching morals, God proves both guilty of doing the very things they condemn in others. And He knows the heart.
One writer names the root of it in a single line.
We pride ourselves on our privileges and forget the responsibilities that go with them.
The questions expose something the outward religion could never fix. Behind them stands a settled principle about what God accepts.
An outward religious form cannot cover a life that contradicts the very spirit of that form. On the other side, where that spirit is really there, God will approve it even though the outward form is missing — and it may be missing through no fault of the person. He will have, and must have, what is real in everything that concerns people's relationship with Himself.
- Profession. The man denounces adultery and hates idols out loud. What he says is not in question — only whether he lives it.
- Practice. The questions test work, walk and worship: what he does, who he joins, and how he treats what belongs to God.
- Contradiction. He used the law as a measuring line for others and as an ornament for himself, and had to plead guilty to every question.
- Damage. The contradiction hit God's Name. Of all people, it was the man who held the law who brought dishonour on it.
- Reality. An outward form cannot cover a life that denies it. God must have what is real, and He approves it even where the form is missing.
thou who boastest in law, dost thou by transgression of the law dishonour God?
Paul has spent this chapter taking apart the confidence of the religious man. Here the argument turns sharpest. The very law he is proud of becomes the thing that condemns him. The question is not whether he has the law, but what his life does to the reputation of the God who gave it.
One mistake lies underneath the boasting. He misread what the law was for.
He made one great mistake. He treated the law as something in which he could boast, and so it fed his pride. The apostle says, "you… rest in the law and boast in God." He did not realise this. The law was not given to him as something to rest in, but as something to test him.
The same writer shows the double standard:
True, he had the outward form of knowledge and truth in the law, but it all worked like a two-edged sword. He kept turning its sharp edge against other people, and overlooked how it applied to himself. For others he treated it as a standard — a plumb-line or a spirit level. For himself he thought it a personal ornament, a feather to stick in his cap. We should not be surprised at this, because it is just what we all do naturally. We take pride in our privileges and forget the responsibilities that come with them.
The verse sits inside a run of questions that moves inward until it reaches God Himself.
The apostle tests the claims of the religious man with searching questions. (1) Speaking to the religious man, the apostle asks, in effect, What about yourself? You have been boasting of teaching others — do you teach yourself? (2) What about your practice? You preach to others that they should not steal — do you steal? (3) What about the world? You claim to approve the things that are more excellent — do you form unholy alliances with the world? Do you commit adultery? (4) What about the heathen? You claim to hate idols — do you rob temples? (5) What about the law and the Bible? You boast in the law — do you obey it? (6) What about God? You boast in the knowledge of God — do you honour God?
The charge rests on one word. Commentators note where else Scripture uses it:
Transgression of the law does occur in Scripture — for instance, in Romans 2:23, translated "breaking the law" in the English Bible. "Transgression" in the same sense, without "the law," appears in Romans 4:15, Galatians 3:19, Hebrews 2:2 and Hebrews 9:15.
The word separates two kinds of guilt:
Transgression is therefore a grave and serious offence. It is the sin of the servant who knows his master's will and yet disobeys, and for that reason deserves many blows. The sin of Israel was transgression, in contrast to the sin of the Gentiles, which is lawlessness.
The people who knew God best did the most damage to His name.
Of all people, it was the Jew who had brought direct dishonour on the name of God. His high claims were nothing more or less than hypocrisy. They gave the Gentiles reason to ridicule and despise the God such people claimed to worship. The Gentiles took their impression of the God of Israel from the conduct of Israel.
Israel's separation from the nations had a purpose:
The separation of the Jew from the nations came from God. But he did not use it as a witness to the holiness of God in a world full of corruption. Instead, he took the opportunity to exalt himself by it. He boasted in God and in the law, but he dishonoured God by breaking the law.
God is not satisfied by the outward form on its own.
A religious form cannot cover a life that contradicts its own spirit. On the other hand, where that spirit is truly present, God will approve it even when the form is missing, which may be unavoidable. He will and must have reality in everything that concerns people in their relation to Himself.
The same charge falls on Christians today:
The apostle is speaking of the Jew, but what he says is equally true of the professing Christian. What has mainly stirred unbelievers to blaspheme is the corruption and the degraded practice of those who profess to be Christians. Consistent Christian living would not by itself have made people Christians. But if Christians lived up to what they profess, people would have no reason to blaspheme God.
- Boast — God gave the law as a test, not as a resting place or an ornament. Treating it as a source of pride is the first mistake.
- Blindness — He used the law as a measuring line for others and a decoration for himself. He never turned its edge on his own life.
- Breaking — His sin is transgression: a servant who knows the master's will and disobeys. That is a heavier charge than the lawlessness of those who never had the rule.
- Blasphemy — The dishonour does not stop with him. Onlookers judge God by the conduct of those who carry His name.
- Bedrock — God will have reality. An outward form cannot cover a life that contradicts it, and the warning reaches anyone who names Christ today.
For the name of God is blasphemed on your account among the nations, according as it is written.
This verse is the sting at the end of Paul's questions to the religious man who has the law, teaches it, and breaks it. The failure is not his alone. God's own name takes the damage among the nations watching His people.
The whole passage turns the Jew's advantage into his accusation. Everything he leaned on becomes the evidence against him.
The Jew was more favoured than the Gentile. No other nation had the light in which he boasted, but he was the most unfaithful to it. He was quite able to lay down the law, but he did not keep the law; this was his condemnation. He was no better practically than the Gentile. He had many privileges, but he was unfaithful to them all. He had broken the law in which he boasted, and by doing so he had dishonoured God; and through him the name of God had been blasphemed among the Gentiles.
Note where the reproach lands. The nations were not judging individuals; they were judging the God whose people these were.
Each question in verses 21, 22 and 23 is like a sword-thrust. To each implied accusation the Jew had to plead guilty. He had the law truly, but by breaking it he dishonoured God, whose law it was. Indeed, their guilt was so flagrant that the Gentiles looked at the Jews and blasphemed God, whose representatives they were.
Paul does not invent the charge. He quotes it from Israel's own prophets, so the verdict already stood in books the Jew honoured.
By his own account, his boasted knowledge of the law brought him no saving power, whatever fuel it gave for his arrogant use of it to look down on others. Who, then, more clearly dishonoured God? Was it not written even more strongly in their own prophets? What did Isaiah say (Isa. 52:5)? And what did Ezekiel say (Ezek. 36:20-23)?
The irony is sharp. The Gentiles the Jew looked down on end up as witnesses for God.
But there is more. Jewish Scripture itself has already answered the Jew's plea and thrown out his claim: "For the name of God is blasphemed among the Gentiles because of you, as it is written" (Ezek. 36:20-23). So the Gentiles are already God's witnesses, to the shame of the Jew who is under Law. To claim anything on the ground of legal obedience is therefore useless. It is also a lie against God, whose own word records their sin.
The failure has a measure: what Israel was set apart to be.
Israel does not appear to have been meant as a missionary people, eagerly spreading what they knew of the one true God. But they were meant to be a model people. Their laws were perfect, and they had received them straight from Heaven. So all their ways should have pleased God and rebuked the nations around them. But they were untrue to their privileged place of separation to God, the one thing that could have made them a blessing to the world. They copied the evil ways of their neighbours instead.
The verse does not stop with the Jew. It reaches anyone whose profession outruns his practice.
The Apostle is speaking of the Jew; but what he says is equally true of the professing Christian. The corruptions and degraded practices of professing Christendom have provoked most of the blasphemies of unbelievers. Men would not have become Christians just because Christians lived consistently. But if Christians lived up to what they profess, men would have no reason to blaspheme God.
That works out in very ordinary things — the job, the household, the way a person keeps his word.
When a Christian is careless, sloppy, or unprincipled in the way he acts, he does serious damage to the cause of Christ and dishonours His holy name. On the other hand, being diligent, earnest, punctual and faithful brings glory to that Name.
This verse is not the end of the road. It is one step in a case that shuts every mouth.
The very law they trusted was their righteous accuser. It had already said of them, "None is righteous, no, not one." And the apostle says, "We know that whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God."
And the dishonour is not the last word about that Name. God takes the matter into His own hands.
Israel had defiled the land and profaned the name of Jehovah, and Jehovah had scattered them among the nations. Even in this His name would be profaned by their vileness, because the nations would say, "These are the people of Jehovah, and they have gone out of His land." But Jehovah would step in and sanctify His great name before the nations. He would bring His people back from among them and cleanse them from all their filthiness, taking away the hardness of their hearts and giving them His Spirit.
- The Name entrusted. God gave Israel the law and set them apart to be a model people whose ways would rebuke the nations around them.
- The Name dishonoured. They copied their neighbours instead. The nations watched God's representatives and blamed God.
- The Name witnessed against. The charge comes from Isaiah and Ezekiel. The Jew's own Scriptures convict him, and the Gentiles he looked down on become God's witnesses.
- The Name and us. The same charge falls on Christian profession. What provokes blasphemy is not argument but the gap between what Christians claim and how they live.
- The Name vindicated. The argument ends with every mouth stopped and the whole world accountable. Yet God says He will sanctify His great name Himself, cleansing His people and giving them His Spirit.
For circumcision indeed profits if thou keep [the] law; but if thou be a law-transgressor, thy circumcision is become uncircumcision.
Circumcision was the mark in the flesh that set a Jew apart from every other nation. Paul now asks what that sign is worth when the man who wears it breaks the law it stands for.
The sign carried a meaning. It tied the man who wore it to the law, and it put him in a place of privilege.
To the Jew, circumcision was the sign that he belonged to the system of Judaism, and it was a real advantage. But its profit was completely lost if he broke the law, because the law was the very basis of Judaism. For a man to boast in what he throws away in practice is the most contemptible form of vanity. Breaking the law was an outward denial of circumcision. Circumcision — the cutting off of the flesh — was the clear sign that a man gave up self in order to submit to the law. Even so, circumcision had brought the Jew into a place of real privilege, because it involved professing God's Name — though unfaithfulness to such a profession called for stern judgment.
"If you obey the law" is not a low bar. One writer weighs the sign against the whole law, for Jew and Gentile alike.
The rite of circumcision marked the Jews off from other nations outwardly. But it counted for nothing before God if a man did not keep the whole law (compare Galatians 5:3). Suppose, on the other hand, that a man could be found who kept the law but had never been circumcised. God would count him righteous. Circumcision neither helped nor hindered justification, if any man at all — Jew or Gentile — had kept the whole law.
Paul does not dismiss the rite. He grants its value, then adds a condition. One writer traces the whole breakdown back to its root.
The failure has one root: people claim outward privileges without an inward work of grace in the heart. The outward place of privilege, which circumcision marks, really is of profit — if the man keeps the law. An outward place among the people of God has its advantages. But if the practice does not match the place, it has no spiritual value.
The verse does not merely cancel the sign. It reverses it: circumcision becomes uncircumcision.
Still, circumcision profits if a man keeps the law. But when the law is wholly broken, circumcision becomes the mark of rejection instead of favour and privilege. It becomes uncircumcision. That is, the Jew sinks back to the same natural distance from God as everyone else. He carries one more condemnation as well: he was specially tested, and found rejected.
Another writer asks the obvious question. Is circumcision then worth nothing at all?
Was circumcision of no use because of the dishonour put on it? No — but a circumcision joined to the breaking of what it pledged the man to keep could not be counted as circumcision at all.
Behind the argument lies a settled principle about how God assesses people. Ceremony cannot outweigh character, and the absence of ceremony cannot cancel character.
A religious form cannot cover a life that morally contradicts its own spirit. On the other hand, where that spirit is really there, God will approve of it even though the form is missing — and the lack of it may be unavoidable. He will and must have reality in what concerns men in their relation to Himself... Outward circumstances cannot override His character and ways and judgment.
The argument was aimed at Judaism. One writer carries the same principle straight across to today.
But we can easily transfer the principle to the Christian world today. Baptism is the outward sign or badge of Christianity, and people often boast in it and trust in it while the soul is far from God... We are not belittling baptism, any more than verses 25-26 belittle circumcision in connection with Judaism. But let it be known: baptism is no substitute for the reality of faith, and no addition to it.
- Pledge. Circumcision meant giving up self in order to submit to the law. It pledged the man to the whole law, not part of it.
- Profit. The sign really is of value. An outward place among God's people has advantages — as long as the practice matches the place.
- Reversal. Break the law and the badge of favour becomes a mark of rejection. The man is back at natural distance from God, condemned the more for being specially tested and found rejected.
- Reality. A religious form cannot cover a life that contradicts it. God approves the right spirit even where the form is missing.
- Today. Baptism is the badge people boast in and trust in now. It is no substitute for the reality of faith, and no addition to it.
If therefore the uncircumcision keep the requirements of the law, shall not his uncircumcision be reckoned for circumcision,
Circumcision was the mark that set Israel apart from other nations, and Paul has just said that breaking the law turns a Jew's circumcision into uncircumcision. Now he turns it around: what if a man without that mark keeps the precepts of the law?
Paul closes off an escape route here. A Jew could admit every charge of failure and still treat the sign in his body as a shield.
A Jew might answer, while admitting all this, that circumcision protected him from judgment by God. The apostle exposes the utter insecurity of such a retreat. No Jew would be willing to have an uncircumcised man who kept the righteousness of the law counted as a circumcised man. He, then, must accept being counted as an uncircumcised man if he breaks the law. The formal ceremony of circumcision is not what makes a man truly circumcised; to be real, circumcision must be of the heart.
The logic cuts both ways. If a man will not count the obedient outsider as an insider, he cannot count himself an insider while he disobeys.
The ESV's "regarded as" is "counted" or "reckoned" in older versions. One writer, working out what it means for God to reckon righteousness to a person, points back to this verse as a parallel case.
A parallel passage (Rom. 2:26) gives the same sense — the uncircumcision is counted for circumcision. That is, the man is accounted circumcised when he is not. So a person can be reckoned to be in a state he is not really in. But imputed righteousness does not mean a quantity of righteousness, ready outside himself, reckoned to him. It means the state in God's sight of the person so accounted righteous. Righteousness imputed to a man is the same as the man's being accounted righteous.
Paul puts it as a supposition: if a man keeps the precepts of the law. The ceremony itself decides nothing.
The Jews were outwardly separated from other nations by the rite of circumcision. But this was made null and void before God if a man did not keep the whole law. On the other hand, suppose a man could have been found who kept the law but had never been circumcised. He would have been reckoned righteous. With God, it was no question of mere ceremonies applying to a man outwardly, but of real heart-work.
God can approve where the sign is missing, and reject where it is present.
A religious form cannot cover a life that contradicts the very spirit of that form. On the other hand, where that spirit really is found, God will approve it even though the form is missing — and its absence may be unavoidable. He will and must have reality in everything that concerns men in relation to Himself… As the principle is clear, so are the persons who alone are acceptable with God. External circumstances cannot override His character and ways and judgment.
With moral reality as the standard, the line between Jew and Gentile no longer protects or excludes.
Sin is shown to be the great leveller, as righteousness does not fail to exalt. A transgressing Jew was as bad as, indeed worse than, a Gentile; a Gentile who did righteousness was no less acceptable than a Jew. God will have moral reality; and this, wherever found, alone secures His praise.
The rite belonged to one nation, but the principle travels. People can trust a Christian sign in the same way.
Notice that this argument strictly concerns Judaism. But we may easily transfer the principle to Christendom today, where people often boast in baptism and trust in it, the outward sign or badge of Christianity, while the soul is far from God. And shall not the godly faith of an unbaptised person be counted for baptism? And shall not the baptism of the corrupter be counted as no baptism? We do not belittle baptism, any more than verses 25-26 belittle circumcision… But know this: baptism is no substitute for, and no supplement to, the reality of faith.
Where does the failure begin? One writer traces it to the root.
The root of the failure lies in claiming outward privileges without an inward work of grace in the heart… An outward place among the people of God has its advantages. But if the practice does not match the place, that place has no spiritual value.
- Reality — God counts reality, not form. A religious mark cannot cover a life that contradicts it.
- Regarded — Being "regarded as circumcision" means God counts the man as circumcised when he is not. The same reckoning later describes a person counted righteous.
- Reversible — No Jew would count an obedient outsider as one of his own. So no Jew may count himself in while he disobeys.
- Levelled — Sin levels and righteousness lifts. The failing insider is worse off; the outsider who does right is just as acceptable.
- Transferable — The same test now falls on any badge, baptism included. A badge is no substitute for real faith, and no addition to it.
and uncircumcision by nature, fulfilling the law, judge thee, who, with letter and circumcision, [art] a law-transgressor?
Paul has just said that the sign only counts if the law is kept; now the man without the mark judges the man who wears it. So how can an outsider's obedience condemn an insider, and why does holding the written law make the failure worse?
From verse 25 Paul traces the failure of the religious man back to its root. One writer names that root. A place among God's people has real value, he adds, but only on one condition.
The failure has its root in claiming outward privileges without an inward work of grace in the heart. The outward place of privilege, which circumcision marks, does bring profit — if a person keeps the law. An outward place among the people of God has its advantages. But if the practice does not match the place, it has no spiritual value.
When the life contradicts the sign, the standing counts for nothing.
Paul has already said that sinners supply the evidence against themselves.
But sinners will themselves become witnesses to their own condemnation. The Jew's professed subjection to the Law will prove that he disobeyed it, on the day when the secret of his heart comes out. And the Gentile has kept clear of the moral evil the Jew may be guilty of. His conduct will stand as a separate verdict of judgment against the outward Jew.
Another writer adds what the outsider gains by that obedience.
If the Gentile, who does not have the position, keeps the righteousness of the law, he would get the blessing of the privileged class, even without their position.
The sting of the verse lies in what the transgressor has. He is not a man in the dark. He has the written text and the covenant mark, and he breaks the law anyway.
Think how the obedience of the uncircumcised man would condemn the one who had both the letter of the law and circumcision, and yet broke that law! Clearly then, we must put what is inward and spiritual before what is outward in the flesh.
An older translation renders the phrase "with letter and circumcision." Kelly explains that the small word behind "with" can describe the circumstances a person stands in, rather than a tool he uses.
after_note: DELETE
But the preposition can, and when needed does, express the surrounding condition, as in Romans 2:27, and elsewhere.
So his whole setting is the written law and the covenant sign — and he breaks the law inside it.
Behind the reversal stands a principle Paul laid down earlier in the chapter. Advantage is no shelter from judgment. It raises the standard.
In every case God will judge righteously. But greater privilege brings deeper obligations, and God judges the privileged more strictly… That people stood as God's witness in the earth, unlike the Gentiles. That very standing leaves them open to closer scrutiny. For God is not dealing here in outward blows on the nations. He is dealing with the heart and its ways as He sees them, however hidden from man.
The verse cuts in two directions at once.
Circumcision does nothing to shield them from their own base inconsistency; instead it turns into uncircumcision. In the same way, uncircumcision that keeps the law's requirements should count as circumcision. Sin is shown to be the great leveller, as righteousness does not fail to exalt. A transgressing Jew was as bad as, indeed worse than, a Gentile… God will have moral reality; and this, wherever found, alone secures His praise.
- Badge. Circumcision was a real advantage — but its profit depended on keeping the law, not on wearing the mark.
- Broken. A life that does not match the place empties it of spiritual value. The sign alone settles nothing.
- Witness. The obedient outsider needs no official post. His conduct stands as a separate verdict against the insider who had both the written law and the sign.
- Weight. Greater privilege means deeper duty and closer scrutiny. God judges the heart and its hidden ways.
- Reality. Sin levels every advantage; righteousness lifts. God insists on what is real, and only that wins His praise.
For he is not a Jew who [is] one outwardly, neither that circumcision which is outward in flesh;
Paul has been weighing what religious standing is really worth. Here he presses the case to its end: the badge on the body settles nothing. The real question is what a person is where only God can see.
The whole argument turns on one thing: what God accepts as real.
An outward religious form cannot cover a spirit that morally contradicts it. And where the true spirit is found, God will approve it even when the form is missing — and that absence may be unavoidable. He will and must have reality in everything that concerns how men stand before Him.
Paul's readers could point to their circumcision as proof of belonging to God. That defence collapses, and the two groups end up trading places.
So it was useless for them to fall back on being God's circumcised people. The argument of verses 25 to 29 is very important. It is not official position, which is an outward thing, that counts before God and puts right what is wrong. It is the inward thing that God values. God would have respect to the one who obeys, even if he were an uncircumcised Gentile. He would reject the disobedient, even if he were the circumcised Jew.
Circumcision was a mark cut into the flesh. Behind the ceremony stood a meaning about what Israel was to be.
The persistent tendency was to observe the outward ceremony and overlook its significance. Israel was to be a people completely cut off for God and to God. If there had been circumcision of the "heart," self-love would have been cut off through knowing the love of God.
Carried into the believer's life, that cutting reaches things no observer could check.
Refusing the flesh does not mean merely neglecting the body in a way the world can see. It means refusing the flesh in all its inward workings in the heart — its self-confidence, self-righteousness, vanity and lusts — as something the cross has condemned.
The next verse sets "letter" against "spirit." The word "letter" is easy to misread, as if Scripture itself were the problem.
Here "the letter" does not mean the actual words of the law, for God Himself inspired those words. It means a man's exact outward keeping of the law's forms. Without a purified heart, that is nothing but barren desolation — even in Judaism, where ceremony had its place.
The name "Jew" itself carries the point. What God looks for is hidden, and only He can see it.
What is now to be sought after is reality of heart before God, and not a distinguishing mark on one's body. And only those who have this are now true Jews in spirit, according to the meaning of the word Jew — that is, praise.
That reality is not passed down by birth.
The true Jew is not the one who lives and acts for the eyes of men, but for God's eye. Jewish parentage rightly calls for such a character. If it is missing, a claim based on Jewish descent is worthless.
The mistake here is not confined to one nation or one rite. It returns whenever people trust a ceremony to do what only God can do.
Above all, the Jew boasted of his circumcision as a way of having favour with God, just as Christians in name only trust in the sacraments as the means of salvation. But circumcision or religious rites cannot save a man and make him right before God.
Commentators differ on how far these words reach. Some apply them straight to Christians today. Others read the verse more narrowly.
This passage, however, is not written about Christians at all. It is about Gentiles who kept the law compared with Jews who broke it.
- Outward — An outward position cannot cover a life that contradicts it. God will have reality.
- Inward — God accepts the Gentile who obeys and rejects the Jew who does not. Obedience outweighs the badge.
- Cut — Circumcision marked a people cut off for God. The real thing cuts at self-confidence, vanity and lust.
- Letter — "Letter" is not Scripture. It is exact outward form-keeping, and without a purified heart it is barren.
- Praise — The word "Jew" means praise. The hidden man gets his from God, not from the crowd that cannot see him.
but he [is] a Jew [who is so] inwardly; and circumcision, of the heart, in spirit, not in letter; whose praise [is] not of men, but of God.
Paul ends his case against the religious man by asking where the reality lies. The verse moves the question from a mark on the body to a work in the heart. It also moves it from the approval of neighbours to the approval of God.
The argument ends with a principle, not a concession. A form kept up while the inner life contradicts it settles nothing. And a missing form does not disqualify a person whose heart is right.
A religious form cannot cover the moral contradiction of its own spirit. On the other hand, where the spirit is truly found, God will approve of it even when the form is absent — an absence that may be unavoidable. He will and must have reality in what concerns men in their relation to Himself... External circumstances cannot override His character and ways and judgment.
Earlier in the chapter Paul showed that the religious man's practice fell far below what he claimed. This verse names the reason.
The root of the failure lies in the profession of outward privileges without an inward work of grace in the heart... An outward place among the people of God has its advantages; but if the practice is not in accord with the place, it has no spiritual value... The true Jew is one in whom there is an inward work of the heart. He serves God in spirit and not in the letter. He lives before God, and not just before men.
"The letter" here is not a criticism of Scripture's actual words. It describes a way of relating to them.
The letter here does not mean the actual words of the law, for those words are inspired by God. It means a man's exact outward keeping of the law's forms. And such a thing without a purified heart — even in Judaism, where ceremony was in order — is nothing but barren desolation... The true Jew is not the one who lives and acts for the eyes of men, but for God's eye. He lives not "in the presence of his brothers," but in the presence of God.
Writers also note that this contrast appears elsewhere in Paul's letters, and that taking in words only with the mind "leads to formality and death; it is only what is 'of the Spirit' that can result in life."
The demand is not new. God asked Israel for this long before Paul wrote. The outward rite always carried an inward meaning that was easy to ignore.
They were to "circumcise" their hearts, as the answer to the love shown to them. We again find the Apostle Paul referring to this in Romans 2:28-29... The persistent tendency was to keep the outward ceremony and overlook its significance. Israel was to be a people completely cut off for and to God. Had there been circumcision of "heart," there would have been the cutting off of self-love, in the knowledge of the love of God.
For the believer, that cutting off reaches further than anything visible:
The refusal of the flesh is not to be just an outward neglect of the body, which the world can see. It is the refusal of the flesh in all its inward workings in the heart — its self-confidence, self-righteousness, vanity and lusts — as that which has been condemned in the cross.
The closing words are a play on the name itself. The word "Jew" carries the meaning of praise — so only the inward man answers to his own name.
Turning next to Romans, we are taught there that what is now to be sought after is reality of heart before God, and not a distinguishing mark on one's body. And only these are now true Jews in spirit, according to the meaning of the word Jew — that is, praise... Paul could boast of being circumcised on the eighth day, as the law required. Yet he teaches that what is now to be valued is circumcision of the heart, and not of the letter.
Paul aimed the principle at one nation, but it tests every religion of outward forms. Commentators differ on how far to press it. Some take it to hand Israel's promises over to Christians, a reading that "reveals ignorance in the scope of this Epistle" (Arno Clemens Gaebelein). What does carry over is the test of reality.
To profess the truth is not always to be of the truth. For this we must be born of God by the word of truth (James 1:18). It is an effective and lasting work of the Spirit. Religious ceremonies have their place, but have nothing to do with the giving of life. What is true of the Jew and of circumcision is true of Christianity and of baptism. Outward rites have nothing whatever to do with the giving or the sustaining of life; to think so is to mistake their object and use.
- Reality. God will not accept a form that contradicts the spirit behind it. He insists on what is real between men and Himself.
- Root. The failure of the religious man is outward privilege held without an inward work of grace in the heart.
- Letter. "The letter" is not Scripture's words. It is exact outward keeping of those forms, and it is barren without a purified heart.
- Heart. Circumcision of the heart cuts off self-love and every inward working of the flesh. It answers the love God has shown.
- Praise. The name "Jew" means praise. Only the hidden, inward man answers to it, and his praise comes from God, not from men.
What then [is] the superiority of the Jew? or what the profit of circumcision?
Paul has just argued that being a Jew on the outside, and circumcision in the flesh, count for nothing without an inward reality. This verse voices the protest that argument stirs up: if God puts Jew and Gentile on one level as sinners, was Israel's long history of privilege worth nothing?
Chapter 2 strips the religious Jew of every outward defence. The question in this verse is the natural push-back.
At the end of Romans 2 the apostle pressed home on the conscience, with force no one can answer, that God wants reality and not form. So let the Jew beware. This raises objections, and he answers them in the first part of Romans 3:1-8.
"Advantage" and "value" are not vague words here. They ask whether an outward position, and the rite that put a person into it, are worth anything at all.
First, the question may be raised: is there no advantage in an outward position? What advantage is there in outward religious privileges, such as the Jew enjoyed? Or what profit is there in circumcision — the rite that brought a person into this outward position?
Paul's answer is not a grudging concession. Levelling all people as sinners is one thing; erasing what God actually gave to a nation is another.
This is how we should weigh the Jews and their real state, whatever great privileges God had given them as a nation. When it is a question of sin, Christian teaching brings the Jew down to the level of the Gentile. Even so, it never despises the special advantages of the Jew. It owns them, and above all the advantage of holding the oracles of God in trust. It owns them even though many in Israel proved faithless. For God is faithful. He will judge the faithless, and He will keep His people faithfully.
Why does Paul reach first for this one privilege, out of all Israel's distinctions?
Elsewhere he lists the various high distinctions of Israel. Here he singles out one as first of all: their constant and most precious privilege, the possession of God's written word. He names it all the more because it was best suited to show their moral failure. For what use had they made of it? Where was the fruit of so great a favour?
The word entrusted matters. Israel did not simply own the Scriptures. They held them in trust, and not for themselves alone.
Paul answers with his whole soul that there was "much in every way". But he presses one chief advantage that the Jews had: a trust committed to them, and not for their own sake only — "the oracles of God," His own words spoken through a human mouthpiece. Most people had wandered off into the many forms of idolatry that kept tempting Israel too. Nothing but God's power and goodness kept Israel from them. So the divine Word, if it was to last for the blessing of men, had to be kept away from these destructive influences. It had to sit in a place from which its power could flow out all around, while it stayed safe from the corruption everywhere else.
Granting the advantage settles nothing about the person holding it. The commentators are careful at exactly this point.
The apostle allows the advantage in every way, and first of all in this: God entrusted them with His oracles. But man's unfaithfulness in no way stops God from judging the world, and judging it justly. Outward privileges do not imply a better condition, and they do not secure one. They do increase responsibility.
The verse is not a museum piece. Anyone who has grown up with the Bible near at hand stands where the Jew stood.
To have the Scriptures was then, as it is now, a great gain. Some people do not accept the gospel. Even so, it is an immense advantage to live in a land where the light of God's word presses on people, even if it only touches their outward lives.
- Trust, not trophy. The Jew's advantage is real, and the first part of it is a trust: God gave them His oracles to keep.
- Trust kept. God set that one people apart from the idolatry around them. So His Word could survive and flow out to everyone else.
- Trust honoured. The gospel puts Jew and Gentile on one level as sinners. It still never despises what God gave Israel. His faithfulness stands where theirs failed.
- Trust tested. Holding the Scriptures does not secure a better standing before God. It raises responsibility. Paul names this privilege because it shows what Israel made of it.
- Trust today. Having the Bible within reach is still an immense gain — and still asks the same question: what use have you made of it?
Much every way and first, indeed, that to them were entrusted the oracles of God.
Paul has just argued that birth and circumcision give a Jew no better standing before God, because sin puts everyone on the same level. So a protest follows: then what was the point of being Jewish at all? Paul's answer does not cancel Israel's privilege. He names the greatest one — and that same privilege is what will condemn them.
The question in verse 1 comes from someone who knows how much God had promised this nation.
"Then what advantage has the Jew? Or what is the value of circumcision?" This would be the natural question of a Jew after reading the argument that the Jew is on the same level with the Gentile. This objection appears here for the first time. It matters, because the Jews are God's chosen people... If God puts Jews and Gentiles on the same footing, what then becomes of all these special blessings promised to the Jews?
One Greek word lies behind "oracles," and it covers more than the law given through Moses.
In the New Testament the word translated this way is logion. It is applied to the law given to Moses and entrusted to Israel, and also to truths revealed in New Testament times (Acts 7:38; Rom. 3:2; Heb. 5:12; 1 Peter 4:11). It means "a message or answer given by God," and also the place from which such messages were given.
The phrase also settles something about the Old Testament itself:
"Oracles," says Dr. Johnson, "are something delivered by supernatural wisdom." That is the meaning of this important phrase. The utterances of God — is this not another word for inspiration? And Scripture says the Jews were privileged: God appointed them the keepers of His oracles. "The utterances of God!" Who dare question them? And they form the Old Testament.
Paul says "to begin with," as if a list is coming. One item leads it, and the reason for that order matters.
In its proper place he lists the various high distinctions of Israel. But here he singles out one as foremost: their constant and most precious privilege, the possession of God's written word. He names it all the more because it was best suited to show their moral failure. For what use had they made of it? Where was the fruit of so great a favour?
Having the Scriptures put Israel somewhere no other nation stood. It did not put them right with God.
Nothing here says that this clear fact guarantees God's acceptance of them personally, because it does not. But it put them in a unique position. They were the only nation to whom God made His will known, the only nation to whom He showed His counsel and ways in those days.
The privilege still stood even when Israel refused it:
This is not a question, in this respect, of their all being converted one by one. They enjoyed privileges as the people of God that were found nowhere else. And if they did not believe, their unbelief could not set aside the faithfulness of God. The promises of God will be fulfilled through His faithfulness to His people Israel, even though they have lost every right to them.
"Entrusted" makes Israel trustees. A trustee must guard what he receives, and he can betray it.
Privilege and responsibility go together... As a people they were blessed; as a people they were responsible. They were Jehovah's chosen people, and in a world where every other nation worshipped idols, they were His only witness there. He had also given them His law and His truth, and He appointed them trustees to use and guard that holy trust. Their failure, then, in both matters, was nothing short of disaster.
Yet Israel did guard the text. That fact still bears on how we know which books belong in the Bible:
Scripture tells us that the Jews were entrusted with the oracles of God (Rom. 3:2). As is well known, they guarded the Old Testament Scriptures with great care for centuries before there was any Christian church... God could surely give a revelation that needs no group of men to stamp it with their seal, however holy those men might be.
One writer brings the point down to today. To live where the Bible is open is a real gain — and a real weight.
To have the Scriptures was then, as it is now, a great gain. Even if some do not accept the gospel, it is an immense advantage to be in a land where the light of God's word is brought to bear upon men, even if it only affects their outward lives.
There is a clear advantage in being born and raised in a "Christian" land, but tremendous responsibilities come with it... A person who claims the Christian religion without being converted will be judged by the high standard he has claimed, and so will deserve a heavier judgment.
- Trust given. Israel's chief advantage was not birth or ritual. God placed His own words into their hands.
- Trust defined. "Oracles" (logion) means a message given by God. So the Old Testament, as a whole, is God speaking.
- Trust misused. Paul names this privilege first because it exposes them: great favour received, no fruit shown.
- Trust kept. They failed to obey the word, yet they guarded it, so no church needs to certify which books are Scripture.
- Trust transferred. The same open Bible is now the advantage of those born where it is read — and the standard by which they will be measured.
For what? if some have not believed, shall their unbelief make the faith of God of none effect?
Paul has just put Jew and Gentile on the same ground before God. So an objector protests: if God gave Israel His own words and many of them refused to believe, does human failure cancel what God has said?
The question comes from a Jewish hearer. Paul has just told him that his religious standing will not shield him from judgment.
Was God to go back on His own character so that the disobedient Jew could escape punishment? The apostle asks: "What if some did not believe? Will their unbelief cancel the faith (or faithfulness) of God?" He must be, and will be, true to His word, whatever man may do… God had been faithful to His word in the wilderness, when the people were unfaithful. Otherwise, where would the nation have been?
Verse 2 named the advantage: Israel held the Scriptures.
The chief advantage was that the Jew had the oracles of God. To have the Scriptures was then, as it is now, a great gain. Even if some do not accept the gospel, it is a huge advantage to live where God's word shines on people — even if it only changes their outward lives.
The ESV says "the faithfulness of God"; older versions read "the faith of God." Commentators explain the older phrase in two ways. Some take it as God's own reliability to His word.
The apostle fully recognises their privileges, above all in having the scriptures, "the oracles of God." If some did not believe, their unbelief would not cancel the faith — that is, the faithfulness — of God. He would fulfil His word.
Others read it as the body of truth God has made known, given so that people might believe it.
He makes it perfectly plain that no amount of human unbelief can nullify or alter what God has said. "The faith of God" is, of course, all that which God has revealed, in order that men may receive it in faith.
Refusing a message changes nothing about the message. It only wrecks the one refusing.
Will their unbelief shut the door of faith completely? Can they cancel the truth by refusing it? Does the faith of God stop working because some despise it or oppose it? "By no means! Let God be true though every one were a liar." Whether a man receives the truth or rejects it makes no difference to the truth itself. It stands alone, solemn and majestic, unchangeable, unbeatable, final. The fiercest opposition a man can raise only destroys himself against an immovable rock.
The verse says only "some" were unfaithful. Not everyone in Israel refused, and those who believed still gained.
True, but any who did believe Him got blessing, even though the rest were in unbelief. God is always faithful even if all others play false. Those who believed Him received blessing through His word. God counted them righteous, though in themselves they were unrighteous.
If the promises rested on Israel's record, they would be dead already. They rest on the faithfulness of the One who made them.
They enjoyed the privileges of the people of God, found nowhere else. If they did not believe, their unbelief could not set aside the faithfulness of God. (It is just the same now with those who profess Christianity.) God will fulfil His promises to His people Israel through His faithfulness, although they have lost every right to them.
Behind unfaithfulness lies something simpler — a heart that will not trust God. And the way back is the one David took: agreeing with God against himself.
God holds to His truth without fail. Men fail in faithfulness because they lack faith. That lack of faith is blind to sin, trusts self, and has no confidence in God… the apostle insists that God at least be proved right, to man's shame and to his confession of his own evil. David did the same. His only resource was to admit his sin to God, clearing God whatever it cost himself. Indeed this is the secret of blessing for the sinner.
The danger is not Israel's alone.
A non-Jew who professes Christianity may be baptized, but if that is all, he is no less a leper in God's sight than the Jew. Carrying the Lord's name on the outside cannot bring anyone to God without living faith. No — holding privileges only on the outside was and is a great danger for the flesh, which falls asleep under them now, just as Israel did long ago.
- Privilege given. God entrusted Israel with His own words. That is a real gain, then and now, wherever Scripture shines on people's lives.
- Privilege refused. Unbelief cannot cancel the truth. Fighting it is like throwing yourself at an immovable rock. The damage is all on one side.
- Faithfulness untouched. God stays true to His word, and to the truth He has revealed. It stands even if every man proves false.
- Faithfulness reaching some. God counted the few who believed righteous. He blessed them through the word most people ignored.
- Faithfulness finishing. Israel lost every right to the promises. God's faithfulness will still fulfil them. That same faithfulness leaves empty religious profession without excuse.
Far be the thought but let God be true, and every man false; according as it is written, So that thou shouldest be justified in thy words, and shouldest overcome when thou art in judgment.
Paul has just asked what advantage the Jew has. His answer: God gave Israel His own words. That raises the harder question of verse 3. If many of them refused to believe, does God's faithfulness fail with them? Verse 4 is his answer, and it sets a rule for every dispute between what God says and what people say.
The verse opens by rejecting the idea outright. Older translations give it as "God forbid," but the words behind it never mention God:
This is an unfortunate expression, bringing in the name of God where it does not occur. In the Old Testament it is chalilah, "far be it." In the New Testament it is mē genoito, "let it not be." Romans 3:4, 6, 31, and so on.
The Greek word used for God here is the one that answers a lie:
Alēthēs means what is according to truth. So "Let God be true!" in Romans 3:4 stands in contrast to the falsehood of man.
Verse 3 asked about "the faith of God" — older wording for God's faithfulness:
He makes it perfectly plain that no amount of human unbelief can nullify or alter what God has said. "The faith of God" is, of course, all that which God has revealed, in order that men may receive it in faith.
The damage falls on one side only:
Whether a man receives the truth or rejects it makes no difference to the truth itself. It stands alone in solemn majesty — unchangeable, unbeatable, impossible to overturn. Man's most violent opposition only destroys himself against an immovable rock.
Paul's quotation comes from Psalm 51, a psalm David wrote about his own downfall:
In this psalm of repentance, David admits that judgment came upon him because of his great sin. In that judgment God proved true everything He had said about judgment overtaking the sinner. God justified His own words in His dealings with David.
That confession is not only David's pattern; it is the doorway for anyone:
God holds fast to His truth and never fails. Men fail in faithfulness because they lack faith. Such unbelief feels nothing about sin, trusts self, and has no confidence in God… David found his only way out in admitting his sin to God, clearing Him whatever it cost him. Indeed this is the secret of blessing for the sinner… Our sins justify His words.
There are only two possible verdicts, and they move in opposite directions:
It is of the greatest moral importance to see this. Whenever we justify ourselves, we condemn God. And when we condemn ourselves, we justify God… The greatest folly anyone can be guilty of is to justify himself, because God must then count his sin against him. But the truest wisdom is to condemn yourself completely, for then God becomes the Justifier.
The last clause pictures man putting God on trial — and losing the case:
To silence this objection the apostle appeals to Psalm 51:4. God took account of David's sins, and David himself declared Him right in doing so. In the same way, on the day of judgment God's right to take account of sins will be fully proved. He will overcome every one who thinks to call it in question. It will be better to make every man a liar rather than challenge God's right to judge sin.
The verse is more than an argument. It is also a remedy:
Sometimes God and His truth lose their moral hold on people's consciences. The one sure way to restore it, even in yourself, is to declare firmly: "Let God be true though every one were a liar!" I turn away from men to bear witness to the truth. After all, no conscience can be truly blessed when God is not presented to it according to truth.
- Far be it. The phrase behind "By no means" means "let it not be" — Paul's flat refusal of the idea that God could fail.
- True. God is true as the opposite of a lie. Man's falsehood is the contrast that shows it.
- Unmoved. No one's unbelief weakens what God has revealed. Refusal harms only the refuser.
- Justified. David's psalm shows the pattern: own the sin and clear God. That is where God becomes the Justifier.
- Prevail. Everyone who puts God on trial loses. The wise move is to clear God now, before the day of judgment.
But if our unrighteousness commend God's righteousness, what shall we say? Is God unrighteous who inflicts wrath? I speak according to man.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
Far be the thought since how shall God judge the world?
Paul has just quoted an objector: if human sin makes God's faithfulness shine brighter, the sinner should escape punishment. Paul throws that argument out in three words, and his reason is one fact the objector already believed.
A question rises in anyone's mind at this point. If my wrong turns out to serve God's glory, how can He punish me for it? Paul voices the thought, then disowns it.
In speaking like this the Apostle is careful to say that he is only voicing the thoughts of man. For himself he knows the argument is false, for at once he replies, "Far be the thought". Such an argument, if true, would make it impossible for God to judge the world.
Two phrases carry the verse. The first is the refusal. Older translations put it as "God forbid" — but God's name is not in Paul's Greek.
This is an unhappy expression, bringing in the name of God where it does not occur. In the Old Testament it is chalilah, 'far be it.' Genesis 44:7, 17, etc. In the New Testament it is mē genoito, 'let it not be.' Romans 3:4, 6, 31, etc.
The second is "the world." The Greek word kosmos covers several senses, and this verse uses a particular one.
This word is used for 'world' in its various meanings. It can mean the material earth, Romans 1:20. It can mean the inhabitants of the world whom God will judge, Romans 3:6. And in a moral sense it means the condition and spirit that opposes God. 1 Corinthians 2:12; James 4:4; 1 John 2:16.
Paul does not prove that God will judge the world. He assumes it, because the Jewish objector assumed it too. That assumption destroys the objection.
This last was an axiom with the Jew. He was willing enough to allow justice in dealing with the earth at large. Abraham, for example, had taken his stand on it when he asked that Lot be spared from the destruction then hanging over the cities of the plain. It is impossible that there can be unrighteousness in God. But this very consideration was fatal to the foolish delusion of self-security that an unrighteous Jew clung to. God brings Himself glory even in the face of man's iniquity. But iniquity is still iniquity, and God will judge it just as surely.
The plea does not merely excuse one sinner. Follow it through and God loses the right to judge anyone at all. That includes the judgment on the nations, which the objector was counting on.
Suppose a man takes refuge in the plea that the unrighteousness of the Jew will commend the righteousness of God. The answer is, "That destroys God's right to judge at all. Every Jew is expecting the judgment of God upon the world; but on this principle it never could be."
Nobody actually lives by the objection. The moment someone wrongs us, we know that wrong deserves an answer. And people still approve of history's great judgments.
No one who suffers wrong, or who is hurting under cruel injustice, would think that the evil done to him deserves no punishment. It cannot be unjust for God to give sinners what they deserve... Who now would charge Him with injustice for dealing in judgment with the world before the flood? Who would plead that Sodom and Gomorrah should have been left unpunished?
The objection treats judgment as something God might drop, as long as His glory is safe. Commentators answer that judgment itself displays that glory.
But this is only man's question. The answer is decisive — "By no means! For then how could God judge the world?" And the Jew would surely approve of His judging the Gentile world. But the Jew's case was morally the same — in fact worse, when you consider his privileges. What is more, carrying out judgment is part of the display of God's glory and righteousness. It cannot be set aside.
- The claim — Man says his wrong makes God's righteousness shine, so punishing him would be unfair. Paul quotes the thought, then refuses it outright.
- The refusal — "God forbid" translates a phrase that simply means "let it not be"; God's name does not appear in it.
- The axiom — Paul answers with something his opponent already held: God judges the world. Abraham stood on the same ground.
- The collapse — Accept the objection and God loses the right to judge anyone. That includes the nations the objector expected Him to judge.
- The glory — God does not drop judgment once His glory is safe. Carrying it out is part of how He shows that glory and righteousness.
For if the truth of God, in my lie, has more abounded to his glory, why yet am *I* also judged as a sinner?
Paul has been arguing that human unfaithfulness cannot cancel God's faithfulness. Now he voices the objection this invites: if my lie makes God's truth shine brighter, why am I condemned for it?
The "I" in this verse is not Paul. He is quoting an opponent.
Paul is quoting the words of a rebellious, reasoning sinner. This man tries to prove that God is unrighteous in bringing him into judgment. Such people seem to say, "Granted that every man is a liar (v. 4). My lie only confirms the truth of what God said, and so glorifies God. Since my sinful condition glorifies God by proving His word true, why should He bring me into judgment?"
Paul does not leave his own view in doubt.
In speaking this way the Apostle is careful to say that he is only voicing the thoughts of man. For himself he knows the argument is false. He replies at once, "Far be the thought." If such an argument were true, God could not judge the world.
The objection starts from something true. The error lies in what it concludes.
The fallacy in verse 7 is just this: man's lie does not hide God's truth; it illustrates it. God is therefore glorified by means of my lie. But is God in debt to my wickedness for His glory? Far from it. So the objection no longer blocks God's judgment on the evildoer. God will judge him according to his deeds.
Push the logic and it collapses.
If that were so, God could execute no judgment on the world at all. For He makes all sins glorify Him, restraining those that will not. And if this were so, one principle would be right. Because Christians magnified grace, people falsely charged them with holding it: that they might do evil so that good might come. But God's just judgment would in fact fall on those who could adopt so terrible a lie as truth.
Jewish readers took God's judgment of the world for granted. This objection removes it.
It will be better to make every man a liar than to challenge God's right to judge sin. Someone may take shelter in this plea: the unrighteousness of the Jew will commend the righteousness of God. The answer is that this destroys God's right to judge at all. Every Jew expects God's judgment on the world; but on this principle it could never happen.
The charge was not theoretical. The world said this was what Christians taught.
The apostle does not stoop to reply to the wicked insinuation of some — "Let us do evil that good may come" — but simply says, "Their condemnation is just." Christians were in fact accused by the world of speaking this way. As long as the soul is not convinced of sin, grace always draws accusation. But as soon as the conscience knows sin, grace draws heartfelt gratitude.
God does bring good out of evil. That does not make the evil excusable.
God does triumph over sin. He shows His power and brings out greater blessing for man than ever before. But that is no credit to sin. Sin does not secure God's glory or man's blessing. The absolute condemnation of sin does. If we dare to defend sin, we take our place beside it under the condemnation of God. He is greater than sin, and greater than we are.
Paul's reply to the whole argument is short.
Paul has a short answer for those who argue this way. He simply says their judgment is just. Man's sin may turn to God's glory. Even so, it does not relieve man of his responsibility or save him from God's judgment.
- Voice — The "I" is not Paul's confession. He is quoting a rebellious objector in order to answer him.
- Fallacy — Man's lie does display God's truth. But God owes no debt to wickedness for His glory.
- Collapse — If God cannot judge sin that ends in His glory, He can judge no one at all.
- Slander — The world twisted grace into "Let us do evil that good may come." Once the conscience knows sin, grace produces gratitude instead.
- Verdict — Sin that serves God's glory still leaves the sinner responsible. Blessing comes through sin's condemnation, not its excuse, and the objector's condemnation is just.
and not, according as we are injuriously charged, and according as some affirm that we say, Let us practise evil things, that good ones may come? whose judgment is just.
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
What then? are we better? No, in no wise for we have before charged both Jews and Greeks with being all under sin
Paul has just allowed that the Jew had real advantages — above all, God's own words. Now he asks whether those advantages leave the Jew better off before God, and his answer is a verdict already reached: every kind of person stands in one class, under sin.
The apostle does not deny the Jew's advantages. He separates two things people often confuse: having advantages and being better.
He has established the great truth that God required real moral goodness. Now he looks at the position of the Jews. Could they not claim special favour from God? Was there no advantage in Judaism? There certainly was, above all in this, that they had God's own words… So if the Jew had advantages, was he therefore better? Not at all: all were shut up under sin, whether Jew or Gentile, as God had already declared.
The phrase "we have already charged" points backwards. Paul built the case in the earlier chapters, but he will not rest it on argument alone.
The position is this: though the Jew had certain great advantages over the Gentile, he was no better than the Gentile. The Apostle had proved this before, especially in chapter 2. Both Jew and Gentile are "under sin." But with the Jew he was not going to be content with proving it by reasoning. He goes on to quote the Jew's own Scriptures directly against him.
The verdict did not start with him.
This was not just the conclusion of the apostle's argument. The Scriptures had already spoken in these terms, and the summing up of man's guilt comes in direct quotations from David's Psalms and from Isaiah 59.
"Under sin" is an unusual phrase, and softer wordings were available. One translator explains why he kept it.
The expression "under sin" (Rom. 3:9) is unusual, but we have kept it so as not to weaken the moral force of the term. In the text it points out the sinful condition, as God views it, which presses upon us — a weight, a power, and on every side. The meaning would be lost if we translated it "in sin" or "subjected to sin."
The proof of the charge is not abstract. It shows in what people do with their bodies.
God has not only said that all have sinned. He has said that all are under sin (Rom. 3:9). The proof of this is that both Jew and Gentile serve sin with every part of their bodies. Sin reigns in the body, and every part serves it with all its might.
If no one comes out better, then ranking ourselves against other people proves nothing. Yet it is the test we all reach for.
Measuring ourselves by anyone else is a deadly mistake, and we have all done it. "God, I thank you that I am not like other men, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even like this tax collector," shows the utter blindness of the religious Pharisee in the parable. It is also the cause that breeds blindness everywhere. Who does not know somebody to compare himself with, coming off better or worse? It is all false ground to take, and the surest way to be deceived by the enemy of God and of our souls.
The argument shuts in both groups from opposite ends, and then asks what God will do.
So the beginning of the argument proved the Gentiles ruined, and the end proves the Jews ruined too. The result is that every mouth is stopped and the whole world stands under judgment to God. What is His sentence? Is there no mercy? There is His righteousness by Christ Jesus, righteousness which justifies the believer.
One ruin shared by all means one remedy offered to all.
The grace of God meets us just as and where we are. It meets everyone alike, whether Jew or Gentile, philosopher or simple… All are alike in the ruin — all are alike the objects of the remedy.
- Advantage. The Jew's privileges were real, above all God's own words. But privilege never changed the condition underneath.
- Verdict. Paul did not invent the charge here. He had proved it already, then pressed it home from the Jew's own Scriptures.
- Bondage. "Under sin" is strong wording on purpose. It means a condition that presses on us as a weight and a power, while every part of the body serves sin.
- Level. No one is an exception. So comparing yourself with someone worse is the surest way to stay blind.
- Remedy. Every mouth stopped is not the last word. All are alike in the ruin, and all alike are offered God's righteousness in Christ Jesus.
according as it is written, There is not a righteous [man], not even one;
Paul is finishing a case. It began with the openly corrupt and ended with the religious and privileged. He closes it not with his own opinion but with a quotation from Scripture. Its first word is the widest in the whole charge: "none." It points at the reader before anyone else.
Paul builds his summary out of texts his opponents themselves honoured.
Paul sums up the whole human race. He reviews first the pagan nations, then the civilized pagan, and last the religious Jew with all his God-given advantages — and with each he is just as sweeping. "None is righteous, no, not one." "No one understands; no one seeks for God." That is how the summing up of Romans 3 runs. It is largely made up of carefully chosen quotations from the Old Testament Scriptures, which the Jewish people received and revered outwardly. Paul testified to nothing new. How could a Jew stand up and deny his own Scriptures?
This is not a charge anyone enjoys hearing.
The first quotation (vv. 10-12) is a passage found twice in the Psalms (Ps. 14 and Ps. 53). The repetition seems to show that its statements are very important and that we must not miss them — though they are the kind of statements we would be very glad to miss if we had our way.
The phrase "no, not one" leaves no room for an exception.
The first count is this: none righteous — not even one. That includes us all. The statement is like a net — so wide that it takes everyone in, so sound that not the smallest fish can find a tear to escape through. Not one of us is right in our relationship with God.
The verdict is not that people never behave decently. God measures righteousness by what we owe Him.
First God strips us of our self-righteousness. It is written, "None is righteous, no, not one". It is hard for us to believe that all our righteous acts are like filthy rags, and that there is not one righteous person in God's sight. We might plead that surely there are a few; but God says, "Not one". This does not mean there are no honest people; it means that not one of us has given God His rights. It would only be right for us to love God with all our heart, with all our soul, and with all our mind. But no one has done so, and so no one is righteous before God.
Verse 10 gives only the first "none". The next line shuts the escapes that are left.
Man is a completely lost creature, with no point of recovery in himself. In Romans 3:10-11 the denial comes three times over. We all readily agree with the first: "None is righteous." Even so, there is hope for an unrighteous man if only he sees his condition. But then — "no one understands." That being so, the only faint hope left is that a man might somehow be drawn toward God and begin to understand. And once more — "no one seeks for God." Then hope is dead as far as man is concerned!
The timing of this verdict is itself mercy. God gives it now, while something can still be done.
If you apply the law, "None is righteous, no, not one." God does not say this in the day of judgment; He warns us in the day of grace. In mercy He tells us beforehand what His verdict on us is. If He were sitting on the great white throne, could it be any plainer than we get it in Romans 3? Can a man stand up after that and say, I am righteous? Is that the way to meet God? Is He a liar?
The verdict is not the end of the argument. It changes the question.
Now the question becomes one of a completely different righteousness. Man is all wrong; there is no righteousness in him. That has already been proved. So the only righteousness left is God's. The first great truth stated is this: man as a whole, man of every rank and kind, is written off as having no righteousness by God's standard. So it becomes a question of God showing His own righteousness, if He so pleases. This He does, and in a way fully worthy of Himself.
Hearing the verdict changes nothing until you agree with it.
He has pronounced clearly and firmly against the whole world. Dear friends, have you accepted His sentence? That is your only hope.
- Written, not argued. Paul settles the case by quoting Scripture the Jews already honoured. The Psalms say it twice. It is not new teaching.
- Sweeping. "No, not one" is a net with no tear in it; no rank or kind of person slips through.
- Measured by God's rights. The charge is not that people are never honest. It is that no one has loved God with all the heart, so no one stands right before Him.
- Hopeless in man. The three denials shut every door: not righteous, not understanding, not seeking. Man has no move left to make.
- Spoken in the day of grace. God gives the verdict now, before the day of judgment, so that whoever accepts it can receive the only righteousness left — His own.
there is not the [man] that understands, there is not one that seeks after God.
Here Paul quotes Israel's own Scriptures, where God looks down from heaven to see what He will find in people. The search turns up no one — so how does anyone ever come to God?
Paul answers a reader who boasts that the law belongs to him alone.
The law, he says, belongs to you. You boast that it refers to you exclusively. Very well — then hear what it says about the people, about yourselves. It speaks to you, as you admit. There is not one righteous man among you on whom God can look down from heaven... So every mouth is shut, and all the world is guilty before God.
Paul takes the words from a psalm that describes a search, and God is the searcher.
God looked at men in the way Psalm 14 describes, and the sight was pitiful. The psalm reads: "The LORD looks down from heaven on the children of man, to see if there are any who understand, who seek after God." In view of such sweeping statements, anyone who pleads righteousness with God shows real insensibility to the true state of things. It suits us all better to admit that we are truly guilty, and then throw ourselves entirely on God's unlimited grace.
The two clauses of this verse are a descent, each one worse than the last.
It is bad that no one is righteous (verse 10). It is worse that no one understands, for that means a state not just of ignorance but of insensibility. Worst of all, no one wants to understand or to seek after God — and righteousness and understanding and life are found in Him. To the natural man there is nothing desirable in God. Man is not right; he does not understand that he is not right; he has no desire after God who is right. In one word, he is dead towards God.
The writers quote an older translation. Clause by clause, the failure covers both the mind and the aim of life:
"There is none that understands" — the very intelligence of all is corrupted by sin. "There is none that seeks after God" — not even a right object is before them; there is no concern to know God.
Saying nobody seeks God is not saying nobody seeks anything.
"Oh, well," says the objector, "if man's understanding has gone astray, there are still his instincts and feelings. Those are sound, and if he follows them they will surely lead him to God." But count number three confronts us — there is no one who seeks after God. Then what does man seek? He seeks self-pleasing, self-advancement, self-glory. So he seeks money, pleasure, sin. What he seeks once the power of God has touched his heart is another matter. The point here is what he seeks according to his fallen nature, apart from the grace of God.
Each "none" shuts off one more escape.
In Romans 3:10-11 the word "none" is repeated three times. We all easily agree with the first, "There is none righteous." Still, for an unrighteous man there is hope, if only he recognises his condition. But — "There is none that understands." If that is so, the only faint hope is that something draws a man Godward, so that he may begin to understand. But again — "There is none that seeks after God." Then hope is dead, as far as man is concerned.
Man's inability does not cancel his responsibility.
The word of God says plainly, No. "There is none that seeks after God." He came to seek them, thank God, but when He came He was rejected... Notice that Jesus says, "You will not come" (the ESV reads, "you refuse to come to me"). I fully believe they are responsible for it; but where do you find, "You will"? ... God certainly does not stop anyone from coming, but such is the state of man's heart that he will not. This is why the work of God is necessary.
Where the search from earth upward yields nothing, the movement reverses.
If men do not want Him, He wants them! Right after the rebellion in the garden, God called out, "Where are you?" The gospel tells us — blessed thought! — that God is now the Seeker after men. This is the meaning of His beloved Son coming among us. So the New Testament never commands sinners to seek the Lord, though it is still their responsibility to do so. Instead it tells them that God is seeking them. Jesus said, "The Son of Man came to seek and to save the lost."
And when anyone does come, that coming is itself traced back to God's work:
All are free to come, but left to himself man will not come. There is none that understands, none that seeks after God. So the Lord shows clearly that if men are to be blessed, it can only be by sovereign grace.
- The search — God Himself looked down to find someone who understood and sought Him. This verse reports what He found.
- The descent — not righteous is bad. Not understanding is worse, because it adds insensibility. Not wanting God is worst of all: it means being dead towards Him.
- The redirection — no one seeks nothing. Apart from grace, man seeks self-pleasing, advancement and glory, and looks for them in money, pleasure and sin.
- The dead end — three times "none" closes every road of self-recovery. So blessing can only come by God's own work, and man's refusal stays his own responsibility.
- The reversal — since no one seeks God, God became the Seeker. So stop pleading your own righteousness, and throw yourself on His unlimited grace.
All have gone out of the way, they have together become unprofitable; there is not one that practises goodness, there is not so much as one
Paul is quoting Psalm 14, where God looks down from heaven to see what people are really like. Verse 12 gives three findings: the road men take, the worth they carry, and the good they do.
These words are not a preacher's exaggeration. They report what God saw when He surveyed mankind — and that leaves only one honest response.
It was a pitiful sight that God saw when He surveyed men in the way described in Psalm 14. … In view of such sweeping statements, it shows real insensitivity to the true state of things for anyone to plead righteousness with God. It is more fitting for all of us to admit that we are truly guilty. Then we can throw ourselves without reserve on God's unlimited grace.
The first charge is not the language of an accident. It describes a road chosen on purpose.
Fourth, "All have turned aside." This describes the self-will of the flesh. It deliberately abandons God's way and chooses its own. We have not simply strayed off the road. The natural man turns his back on God on purpose and takes a way of his own choosing. The prodigal son deliberately left his father's house and went his own way.
The middle charge is about usefulness. It comes out at zero in every direction.
The whole passage is a solemn picture of what the human condition really is, as God sees it. There is the absence of all good — the presence of all evil. God declares man completely unprofitable. He is of no profit to the God who made him, for he only lives to dishonour Him. He can profit neither his neighbour nor himself, for all the works of his hands are evil. The purposes of his heart are pure emptiness.
The word "together" is doing work of its own. Men do not fail alone. They pull each other down.
Fifth, "Together they have become worthless." Not only does the flesh choose its own path, but men drag one another down. Men try to forget God in the social circle. The self-will of the prodigal led him to choose his own way and travel to a distant country. Once there, he threw himself into the social round and tried to forget his father among a crowd of wrongdoers.
The last of the three charges is the hardest to believe, since people do kind things every day. The answer lies in the motive.
All are astray. All are unprofitable, even massed together. You can add zeros to zeros in their thousands, and it still adds up to nothing. And man's works are wrong as well as his ways. He may do a thousand things that look very fine on the surface. Yet they are all wrong, because the motive behind them is completely wrong. No work is right except the work that springs from seeking God and His interests.
The charge is precise. Reading more into it than God says makes it easy to dismiss.
God does not say that people who are not born again are never refined, or cultured, or able, or sweet-tempered, or generous, or charitable, or even religious. But He does say that none are righteous, none understand God, and none seek after Him.
The last words of the verse aim at the reader who assumes they mean everybody else. Here is how one man lost that assumption.
There was a man named Joe Whitbread, a self-righteous man who boasted in his goodness. He fell ill, and a wise Christian visited him. Telling him he was a sinful man would have been useless; it would only have started an argument. So the visitor took another approach. He turned to Romans 3 and read: none is righteous, no, not one (except Joe Whitbread). No one understands, no one seeks for God (except Joe Whitbread)… That was enough. The word of God pierced his conscience, and he confessed that what was true of everyone was true of him.
God found nothing good in man. In His Son He found the opposite — and here the verse stops being only bad news.
"All have turned aside; together they have become worthless; no one does good, not even one" — that was what God saw when He looked down from heaven. But when God searched Jesus through and through, He found nothing but perfect love and perfect devotedness to God… Suppose it had ended there, with only Christ's own perfection. The whole result would have been to show our sinfulness and ruin more clearly by contrast. But He gave Himself. Peace was always His; it was for us that He "made peace by the blood of His cross."
- Searched. God looked down from heaven and reported what He found. This is not gloom about people. It is a verdict after inspection.
- Turned. "Turned aside" is deliberate. The natural man does not drift off God's road; he chooses another, as the prodigal chose the far country.
- Worthless. Being unprofitable means profiting no one: not God who made him, not his neighbour, not himself. The word "together" adds that people drag each other down.
- Nothing good. Fine-looking deeds still fail the test. No work is right unless it springs from seeking God. Zeros added to zeros stay zero.
- Not one. The verse allows no exception, including you. The search that found nothing in man found perfect devotedness in Christ, who made peace by the blood of His cross.
their throat is an open sepulchre; with their tongues they have used deceit; asps' poison [is] under their lips
Paul has been building his case against Jew and Gentile alike. Now he turns to the Old Testament and lets God describe the human mouth. Why start with the body? Why start with words? And who is on trial?
The verse belongs to a run of quotations that names one body part after another. Writers say the order is deliberate. The charge moves from broad statements to specific ones, and most of the details concern speech.
He may complain that all these six statements are of a general nature... If he speaks like this, verses 13 to 18 confront him at once, giving the particulars. These particulars relate to six members of man's body: his throat, tongue, lips, mouth, feet and eyes. It is in the body that man sins, and deeds done in the body are to be judged in the day that is before us all. Notice that of the members mentioned, no fewer than four have to do with what we say. What an awful story it is! And what language!... An "open grave", for instance! Is man's throat like the entrance to a cave filled with dead men's bones and all uncleanness and stench? It is.
The three items are not random. Older translations call the first image "an open sepulchre" — a grave left uncovered. One commentator follows the three as a stream of evil that each part makes worse instead of better.
But something does come out from man's heart. It passes from the throat first, where there is the utter corruption of death — an open grave, revolting to the eyes of the living. Then the tongue, contaminated, becomes the tool of deceit. The lips might have held back both the throat and tongue. Instead they only make the plague of evil worse, adding to it the venomous poison of asps.
Why do poisoned lips follow deceiving tongues? One grows out of the other.
The third quotation is from Psalm 140:3: "The venom of asps is under their lips." The corruption of the flesh leads to lying. And lying leads to the poison of slander, because the flesh that can lie to your face will slander you behind your back.
The verse looks at speech. But what comes out is evidence of what lies inside.
In the main it is true of man that when he speaks he shows what he is. For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks (Matthew 12:34). So we read, "Their throat is an open grave; they use their tongues to deceive. The venom of asps is under their lips. Their mouth is full of curses and bitterness" (Romans 3:13-14). All these things come out of the heart, the seat of life, "and they defile the man" (Matthew 15:18).
A reader might think this describes other people. But Paul quotes Israel's own law, and he presses it on the people who had it.
But, argues the apostle, how is it with you? What does Scripture say about yourselves? What does your own law declare about your ways?... "What the law says, it says to those who are under the law." You cannot throw that solemn sentence of God at the Gentiles. You boast of your law: so be it. But "what the law says, it says to those who are under the law."
Such a description looks like a dead end. Commentators read it as a doorway instead.
A poor end, you may say, to all this long education on God's part — all this painstaking discipline... The truth about man's condition must come out, and he must be made to realise and accept it. Guilty and with his mouth stopped before Him, he will then find what God can be for him in such a desperate situation.
The mouth that condemns a man is the mouth grace puts to new use. The law shuts it. Faith opens it again for something better.
The law speaks of what comes out of the mouth of the sinner who has never been born again. We shudder at its faithful testimony... Now the law speaks to the man under it, in order that his mouth may be stopped. A gateway open for such a flood of wickedness as this had better be shut up for ever. But if faith purifies the heart, and grace is poured into the lips, the outflow will delight the heart of the hearer.
- Particulars — Paul names six body parts in verses 13-18. Four of them have to do with speech, and the charge covers deeds done in the body.
- Progression — Throat, tongue, lips: corruption within becomes deceit, and deceit becomes slander's poison. Each stage makes the last one worse.
- Source — Speech is evidence, not the disease. What fills the heart comes out at the mouth.
- Address — Paul aimed these words at the people who had the Scriptures, not at the Gentiles. That is why every mouth ends up stopped.
- Purpose — A stopped mouth is not the end but the opening. A man with nothing left to say discovers what God can be for him, and grace turns that same gateway into a source of good.
whose mouth is full of cursing and bitterness;
Romans 3:14 sits inside a chain of quotations Paul draws from the Psalms, working down the body part by part. Does this language describe ordinary people, or only the worst of them?
The words are not Paul's own. He takes them from a Psalm, and they arrive at a set point in a chain of sins.
The fourth quotation is from Psalm 10:7: "His mouth is full of cursing." Lying leads to slander, and slander leads to cursing. The slandered man hits back with cursing and bitterness.
The mouth only lets out what is already in the heart. And the people described here are religious ones.
If the heart did not hold these evils, the mouth could never pour them out. Here then we have an insight into the human heart. Note also where this awful quotation appears. It comes in the apostle's description of religious Jews, not in his account of the Gentile nations… So a person can sing the praises of God on Sunday and be guilty of cursing and bitterness towards men on Monday. Oh, the appalling corruption of the human heart! The Saviour had good reason to say: "How can you speak good, when you are evil? For out of the abundance of the heart the mouth speaks" (Matt. 12:34). Yet it is one of the hardest of all lessons to learn that the heart of every man is incurably wicked.
The verses around this one name six parts of the body. Most of the charge concerns talking.
These particulars relate to six members of man's body: his throat, tongue, lips, mouth, feet and eyes. Man sins in the body, and the deeds done in the body will face judgment in the day that lies ahead of us all. Notice that of the members mentioned no fewer than four have to do with what we say. One refers to what we do, and one to what we think; for the eye is the window of the mind.
The natural defence is that this portrait fits criminals, not respectable people. One writer answers with two men raised in opposite worlds.
Some may say, "I am sure I am not as bad as that; my mouth is not full of cursing and bitterness; I have never shed blood." Perhaps not. But you have the same nature as those who do. It is only a question of the difference of the fruit produced on the same tree. Suppose two men. One is brought up among thieves from birth, surrounded by every form of open sin. He flies into a rage with another and commits murder, and he is condemned to death. The other has been raised in the greatest refinement and worldly advantage. Perhaps he would not do the same gross outward acts of sin. But the angry thought that led the one to commit murder might lead the other to do something spiteful. The same evil root is in both men.
Paul is not collecting insults. He is closing a legal case, and the verdict comes a few verses later.
We move on to Romans 3:19. Here the apostle closes his detailed accusation of the whole human race, Gentiles and Jews alike: "so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God." No one can say a single word to excuse man's universal condition of guilt and ruin. No one can give a fair reason why God should not pass sentence at once.
The letter does not leave the mouth where chapter 3 finds it. By the end of the letter the same mouth is doing something else, and self-improvement cannot explain the change.
That which was full of cursing and bitterness in Romans 3 is full of praise in Romans 15. Outward reformation could not produce so great a transformation. Only the mighty work of the Holy Spirit in the heart can do it. By that work God and Christ become known and valued.
- Sourced — Paul borrows the words from Psalm 10:7. They come after lying and slander in a downward chain.
- Symptom — the mouth is the outlet; what pours out only shows what the heart already held.
- Sweeping — four of the six body parts listed concern speech, and the charge falls on religious people too, not just the openly wicked.
- Silencing — the whole list drives at one verdict: every mouth stopped, with no excuse left to offer.
- Sanctified — reform could never do it, but the Spirit can. The mouth full of cursing in chapter 3 becomes the mouth full of praise in chapter 15.
swift their feet to shed blood;
Paul is building a legal case here. Verse 15 is one line in the charge sheet, and it moves the case from what people say to what they do. The deed named is killing.
One writer pictures an objector saying the charges so far are too general to prove anything.
He may complain that all six statements are general. He may remind us that when lawyers have a weak case, they talk in general terms to avoid coming down to details. If he says this, verses 13 to 18 answer him at once, for they give the details. The details name six parts of man's body: his throat, tongue, lips, mouth, feet and eyes. Man sins in the body, and God will judge the deeds done in the body on the day that lies ahead of us all. Notice that four of the parts named have to do with what we say. One refers to what we do, and one to what we think, for the eye is the window of the mind.
The feet come straight after the mouth full of curses. One writer names the source of the line and treats that order as a chain.
The fifth quotation is from Proverbs 1:16: "for their feet run to evil, and they make haste to shed blood." From "curses and bitterness" it is only a short step to murder.
Each line in the list measures the man in a different way. The last two turn from what he does to what he lacks.
Verse 14 sums up man's words; verse 15 his walk; and verse 16 his ways. That is the full condemnation of man, put positively. To add force to it, verses 17 and 18 put the case negatively, showing that there is not one redeeming feature in the picture. The way of peace they have not known; there is no fear of God before their eyes. This last point is the centre and spring of all evil. Little as we may understand it, all sin comes from a negative attitude toward God.
Most readers have never shed blood, so verse 15 can look like someone else's charge. One writer answers that the extreme counts sit beside a count no one escapes.
God brings man into court. He is putting forward a series of counts against him, not taken from one psalm or prophet only, but pieces gathered from different parts of the Scriptures, to show the different sides of man. Some of the counts sound as if they were spoken only against notorious sinners (vv. 13-16): "Their throat is an open grave." But some must apply to everyone — verse 17, for instance: "the way of peace they have not known." What man of Adam's race ever knew the way of peace? See how he ends the trial: "every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God."
Commentators differ on the source of the line. This writer traces it to Isaiah, and shows what Paul does with these words next.
When the same apostle was explaining the gospel of God to the believers in Rome, he quotes weighty and withering words from the early verses of this chapter of Isaiah to convict of sin and ruin, and so to prove the desperate need of grace (Rom. 3:15-17, 19-20). But he follows this with God justifying freely by His grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, whom God set forth as a mercy seat through faith in His blood. This is truly good news to the sinner, Jew or Gentile.
Grace does more than pardon the body parts on this list. It gives each of them new work to do.
From that throat, once an open grave, comes the perfume of immortal love. That mouth, once "full of curses and bitterness," is now filled with blessing. That tongue, long used for "deceit," now spreads the word of truth and life. Those lips, which once hid the deadly "venom of asps," are now full of life-giving grace. Those feet, once "swift to shed blood," are now fitted with "the readiness given by the gospel of peace," and run gladly in the pathways of mercy… the members have become instruments of righteousness.
- Feet indicted. Verses 13-18 name six body parts — throat, tongue, lips, mouth, feet, eyes. Man sins in the body, and God will judge what the body has done.
- Feet hurrying. Verse 15 is the step after verse 14. From curses and bitterness it is a short move to murder, and the feet do not hesitate.
- Feet everyone owns. Some counts look aimed at notorious criminals. But the list ends with charges no descendant of Adam escapes, so every mouth is stopped.
- Feet needing grace. Paul quotes these withering words to prove how desperately we need grace. Then he answers them: God justifies freely through the redemption in Christ Jesus.
- Feet re-shod. The same feet once swift to shed blood now carry the gospel of peace. They run in the pathways of mercy, and the members become instruments of righteousness.
ruin and misery [are] in their ways,
Paul is building a case. From verse 10 he strings together lines from Israel's own Scriptures. This one is a link in that chain. It describes not what men say, but what they leave behind them. Why does God put this on record, and who does it describe?
Paul did not write this line himself. He took it from the prophet Isaiah, and it comes sixth in the row of quotations.
(Verses 16, 17) The sixth quotation is from Isaiah 59:7-8: "Wasting and destruction are in their paths; the way of peace they do not know." Murder leaves ruin and misery behind it.
These charges are ordered, not piled up at random.
Verse 14 sums up man's words; verse 15 his walk; and verse 16 his ways. This is the complete condemnation of man, stated positively. To add force to it, verses 17 and 18 speak from the negative side, showing that there is no redeeming feature in the picture.
A reader might take these words as aimed at criminals only. One commentator agrees that some of the charges read that way. Then he shows where that escape route closes.
Romans 3 is a little more specific. God brings man into court. (Verse 9 and following.) He brings forward a series of counts He has against him... Some of the counts might seem to be spoken only against notorious sinners. (Verses 13-16.) "Their throat is an open grave." But some must apply to everyone — verse 17, for instance: "The way of peace they have not known." What man of Adam's race ever knew the way of peace?
The people most likely to file this description under "other people" are the very ones Paul was addressing.
Now all this was said especially and pointedly to the Jew. Paul reminds them of this in verse 19. They were the people under the law, and the law spoke first of all to them. They might wish to brush it all aside and pretend that it only applied to the Gentile. That could not be allowed. The laws of England address the English; the laws of China the Chinese; the law of Moses the Jew. Their own Scriptures condemn them. Those Scriptures shut their mouths and bring in the sentence against them — Guilty before God.
Older translations read "destruction and misery are in their ways". One writer uses that pairing to answer a question about the word "destruction".
But destruction is not annihilation. "Destruction AND misery are in their ways" (Rom. 3:16) could not be translated, "annihilation and misery are in their ways." You could have misery before annihilation—but it would be impossible after. To feel misery along with destruction proves an existence still able to feel it. So destruction cannot mean annihilation. How careful the wording of Scripture is!
The charge is not the destination. Paul makes it so that he can answer it, and the answer comes at once.
When the same apostle was opening up the gospel of God to the believers in Rome, he quotes weighty and withering words from the early verses of our chapter. He uses them to convict of sin and ruin, and so to prove the desperate need of grace (Rom. 3:15-17, 19-20). But he follows this up with God justifying freely by His grace, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, Whom God set forth as a mercy seat through faith in His blood. This is good news indeed to the sinner, Jew or Gentile.
- Chain — this line is the sixth quotation in the row, and it comes after cursing and bloodshed: "Murder leaves ruin and misery behind it."
- Ways — words (v.14), then walk (v.15), then ways (v.16). Verses 17-18 seal the condemnation: nothing good is left.
- Court — God brings man into court and reads out the counts. Paul aimed them first at the people who had the law. Some look aimed at notorious sinners, but no one of Adam's race has ever known the way of peace.
- Ruin — "destruction" here is not annihilation. Misery felt along with it proves an existence that can still feel.
- Grace — Paul quotes these withering words to prove the desperate need of grace. Then he turns at once to God justifying freely through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.
and way of peace they have not known
Paul is closing a chain of quotations from Israel's own Scriptures. Charge after charge is piled on the whole human race. This line names something never found, and it forces one question: is anyone exempt?
The words are not new with Paul. He reaches back to a prophet who described the same people in the same terms. The line before this one names ruin and misery, and it leads straight into this one.
The sixth quotation is from Isaiah 59:7-8: "Wasting and destruction are in their paths; the way of peace they know not." Murder leaves in its wake ruin and misery.
Paul had a reason for reaching back to this passage. Look at where his argument goes next.
When the same apostle was opening up the gospel of God to the believers in Rome, he quotes heavy, crushing words from the early verses of our chapter. He does it to convict of sin and ruin, and so to prove how desperately grace is needed (Rom. 3:15-17, 19-20). But he follows this up with God justifying by His grace, as a free gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.
Some of the earlier charges sound like they belong to hardened criminals. A respectable reader can shrug those off. This one gives no room to do that.
Romans 3 is a little more specific. Man is brought into court. Here God brings forward a list of charges He has against him. They are not taken from one psalm or one prophet only. They are pieces collected from different parts of the Scriptures, so as to show the different sides of man. Some of the charges sound as if they are spoken only against notorious sinners: "Their throat is an open grave." But some must apply to everyone. Take verse 17 — "The way of peace they have not known." What man of Adam's race ever knew the way of peace? See how Paul closes the trial: "every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God."
The list moves from what comes out of the mouth, to the walk, to the ways. The last two verses switch method. They name what is missing.
Verse 14 sums up man's words; verse 15 his walk; and verse 16 his ways. That is the full condemnation of man, stated positively. To add force to it, verses 17 and 18 speak from the negative side. They show that there is no redeeming feature in the picture at all. They have not known the way of peace: there is no fear of God before their eyes. This last point is, after all, the centre and spring of all evil.
"Have not known" means more than missing information. Man cannot work his way back to what he lost.
It is a sad yet true reflection that not only has man lost the enjoyment of peace, but he is quite incapable of regaining it. In Romans 3 Paul gives us, by the Holy Spirit, a striking summary of what man does and where he falls short. He ends it by saying, "and the way of peace they have not known. There is no fear of God before their eyes." How clearly today shows the truth of these words! Men away from God, looking for the way of peace, and all their efforts proving useless.
Peace was not kept back from the world. It came in a Person, and the world turned Him away.
But men rejected the Prince of peace. His mission was peace, but men's refusal of Him has made peace impossible, and they have to suffer the sword instead. When the Lord Jesus thought of the consequences to men, He wept, saying: "Would that you, even you, had known on this day the things that make for peace! But now they are hidden from your eyes." And so it has become true of men everywhere: "the way of peace have they not known."
The verse describes what every believer once was. The gospel announces that this has changed, and not by anything we did.
Once we had nothing to do with peace, for "the way of peace they have not known." That was no surprise while we were in unbelief, for "there is no peace, says my God, for the wicked." But God has sent the word "preaching good news of peace through Jesus Christ (he is Lord of all)." And Christ "came and preached peace to you who were far off and peace to those who were near." So now, even at a time like this, when everything is confusion, uncertainty and unrest, we know we have a right to it. Why? "For He made peace through the blood of His cross."
The verses just before speak of feet swift to shed blood. Those same feet now get something new to wear.
Before the Gospel reached us, as sinners of the Gentiles, we were without God, and "the way of peace" we did not know. But now the gospel has given our feet shoes. Not only shoes of privilege for the house of God, like the shoes given to the returned prodigal son, but shoes of peace for the fight.
- Source — Paul takes the line from Isaiah 59:7-8. Ruin and misery fill a man's paths, and the way of peace is never found.
- Reach — A charge like an open grave for a throat lets a decent person feel excused. This one leaves no escape. No child of Adam ever knew the way of peace.
- Depth — Verses 17 and 18 state the case from the negative side. No redeeming feature is left, and the missing fear of God is the spring of all the rest.
- Cause — Peace was not simply unavailable. It came in the Prince of peace, and man's refusal of Him left the sword instead.
- Remedy — What we once had nothing to do with is now preached to us. He made peace through the blood of His cross, and those same feet now wear the shoes of the gospel of peace.
there is no fear of God before their eyes.
Paul ends his chain of quotations not with another crime but with something missing — and he places it in the eyes. Why does the list stop there? And what is gone when a person has no fear of God?
The charges in verses 13–18 move through the human body part by part, and the arrangement is deliberate. One writer notes that the shift from general statements to bodily particulars answers anyone who complains the indictment is too vague:
The objector who says this is faced at once with verses 13 to 18, which give the particulars. These particulars relate to six parts of man's body: his throat, tongue, lips, mouth, feet and eyes. Man sins in the body, and the deeds done in the body will be judged on the day that lies ahead of us all. Notice that no fewer than four of the parts named have to do with what we say. One refers to what we do, and one to what we think; for the eye is the window of the mind.
Others count the ways as a member of the list too, making the picture complete:
By every avenue by which what is in man could come out — the throat, the tongue, the lips, the mouth, the feet, the ways, the eyes — in awful sevenfold completeness nothing but sin is expressed.
"Fear" in the Bible covers a wide range of feelings, so the phrase needs unpacking. One writer defines it by its two effects — on the thoughts and on the behaviour:
When Scripture states of Gentiles and Jews alike that "there is no fear of God before their eyes" (Rom. 3:18) it means that God has no place in their thoughts, and that they let His commandments put no restraint on the way they live. This is a terrible state, especially when we remember that God created man for Himself, to walk with Him and to do His will.
The word here is not the usual word for fear, and the difference matters:
Scripture often speaks of the fear of God, and the word it usually uses carries the force of reverence. Here, though, it uses a less common word, meaning dread. Sinful men everywhere have no proper reverence for God, though they may secretly dread Him. But the man before us here has no dread of God... This is more and more true of people today. They have such large ideas of themselves and of their own powers that thoughts of God put no fear on their spirits — if they believe He exists at all. They feel they can ignore Him without risk.
The line comes last, and writers read it as the source of everything above it:
The root of sin lies very deep indeed. It is nothing less than the will of man. So there is a great defect in any judgment about sin that is only moral. Thus the apostle closes his detailed account of ungodly living with this sweeping principle: "There is no fear of God before their eyes" (Rom. 3:18).
One writer follows this root into our own day:
As the fear of God leaves the heart of man, his own self-will grows, and that produces endless folly. Today man's knowledge and cleverness have risen to heights no one dreamed of a century ago. His destructive folly threatens to sink to depths just as undreamed of. Psalm 36:1, quoted in Romans 3:18, exposes the root of it all.
Read plainly, the passage seems to describe criminals, not neighbours. One writer answers that directly:
Not every one of these traits will show in each person, because many things hold the flesh back from its full evil. In ordinary life, education, civilization and the outward forms of religion all keep the flesh from showing its full wickedness. But when the circumstances suit it, the flesh will break through every restraint and show itself in all its ugliness.
One writer applies the verse to the corrupt priests of Israel:
They did not know the Lord; "There [was] no fear of God before their eyes" (Rom. 3:18). Without this fear, there is no hatred of evil. Is it any surprise that they showed the most shocking corruption?
The indictment closes a case, and it closes it against everyone:
This is the law's testimony about those who are under it, "so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God." Men like to draw fine distinctions between one sinner and another in their own favour. Before God every one of those distinctions disappears.
- Eyes — The list runs through throat, tongue, lips, mouth and feet, and ends at the eyes. Four charges concern speech, one conduct, one thought — for the eye is the window of the mind.
- Root — The line comes last, but it is not one more sin. It is the source of all the rest. Where God is not feared, self-will takes over, and that will is the root of sin.
- Dread — The word here is not the usual one for reverence but for dread. People today have such large ideas of themselves that God, if He exists at all, puts no fear on them.
- Restraint — Take away this fear and there is no hatred of evil. Education, civilization and outward religion still hold sin back. They hold it only until circumstances let it break through.
- Verdict — The purpose of the whole catalogue is to stop every mouth. Comparisons between one sinner and another collapse. The whole world is held accountable to God.
Now we know that whatever the things the law says, it speaks to those under the law, that every mouth may be stopped, and all the world be under judgment to God.
Paul has just quoted Israel's own Scriptures against Israel. Now he draws the conclusion. Who is the law actually speaking to? And how can a law given to one nation leave the whole world with nothing to say?
The law belonged to Israel, so its verdict fell on Israel first.
But what about you, the apostle argues? What does Scripture say about you? What does your own law say about your ways? God looks down from heaven and says, "None is righteous, no, not one." … You cannot aim that solemn verdict of God at the Gentiles. You boast of your law — very well. But "whatever the law says it speaks to those who are under the law." … It was the law itself that exposed and announced how great their sin was in God's sight.
The verse does not say the whole world was under the law. Paul had already put the nations outside Israel in a different class. Their guilt was plain.
This does not mean, as it might at first seem, that all the world was under the law. He had stated the opposite. He had described the Gentile outside Israel as "without law" (Rom. 2:12, 14) — a law only "to themselves," which is the opposite of having law given by God. Their sins were open and undeniable. … The Gentile's mouth is already stopped. "You," he says, "you, who are no pagan — you, the people who profess to belong to God — yours is now stopped too: every mouth is stopped, the whole world is guilty."
God tested one nation, and the result settles the case for all.
True, God had given the law to Israel alone. But Israel's failure to meet it proved the condition of the whole world, just as testing a sample proves the condition of the whole batch.
An older margin reads "subject to the judgment of God." The ESV says "held accountable to God." Either way, God has already passed sentence. This is not a probation still running.
God says, all the world is guilty before Him; or, as in the margin, Romans 3:19, "subject to the judgment of God" — and the judgment, or wages of sin, is death. Suppose someone told you that a man was in prison, found guilty, under sentence of death. And suppose you replied, "Oh no, he is only on probation, and if he does his best he will never be executed." Would that not deny the prisoner's true condition?
Everyone stands guilty. So what can the law do for them?
If a shopkeeper has false weights, what can the official standard weights do but condemn him? They would show how far short his weights fell. But they could never call short weights honest. The law did just this: "through the law comes knowledge of sin."
A shut mouth is not the end of the story. It is what makes room for God to speak.
The apostle closes that part of the subject by quoting Scripture, first from the book of Psalms and then from the prophet Isaiah, to show that there is no righteousness in anyone, in heart or in life. The effect of all that is to close men's mouths. As long as a man's mouth is open, he will defend himself. … But when he stands on trial before God's righteousness, and his true character comes out, he has nothing to say. Every mouth is stopped, and all the world is guilty before God. A silent, guilty world — a world that stands convicted of sin, not a word to say — what then? God speaks. He says, I will proclaim My righteousness.
The verdict has to reach you personally. It happens in one place.
My friend, your mouth too must be shut. Before blessing reaches your soul, you must find out that you are a poor, lost sinner, without excuse in God's presence. … Their mouths were stopped when once they got into God's holy presence. Have you ever been there? That is the place where mouths get shut.
- Addressed — The law speaks to the people who hold it. So Israel's own Scriptures convict Israel. Everyone else was guilty beyond dispute.
- Sampled — God tested one nation, and its failure proves the state of all. The law reached few. Its verdict reaches everyone.
- Sentenced — "Guilty" means being subject to God's judgment. The verdict is in. The trial is not still open.
- Silenced — The law measures and exposes, so it can only condemn. Every mouth closes because no one has an answer left.
- Spoken to — Once the world falls silent, God speaks and proclaims His righteousness. The shut mouth is where blessing begins.
Wherefore by works of law no flesh shall be justified before him; for by law [is] knowledge of sin.
Paul has just finished his charge against the whole human race, Jews and Gentiles alike, and verse 20 is the verdict that follows. It raises two questions: why can't a good law make a man right with God, and what is the law for?
Verse 20 draws its "therefore" from verse 19, where every mouth is shut. One writer shows how complete that silence is:
Here the apostle finishes his detailed charge against the whole human race, Gentiles and Jews alike: "so that every mouth may be stopped, and the whole world may be held accountable to God." This means no one can say a single word to soften man's universal condition of guilt and ruin. No one can give a fair reason why God should not pass sentence at once. How would a man feel standing before the judge with nothing at all to say in his defence? This is exactly man's position in relation to God. He may not be convinced; he is convicted beyond all argument.
The verse tests the strongest possible case for human merit and rejects it:
If any works could justify anybody, those of God's law must be the surest benefit to the Jew. But the truth is that no human being will be justified in His sight on any such ground. On the contrary, law never produces holiness. It only brings a full knowledge of sin.
The failure is not in the law. It is the law's excellence that makes justification by it impossible:
It makes no allowance for weakness. It knows nothing of sincere but imperfect obedience. If it did, it would not be what it is — "holy and righteous and good." The sinner cannot get life by the law just because the law is what it is. If he could get life by it, either it would not be perfect, or he would not be a sinner. Its absolute perfection makes clear and seals man's absolute ruin and condemnation.
The second half of the verse gives the law's real job. It shows the problem; it cannot fix it:
The law does convict of sin, "since through the law comes knowledge of sin." But it cannot remove the sins, or free us from the power of sin. The law is only a plumb-line to show the crookedness of the wall. Holding a plumb-line against a crooked wall will never straighten it. It is just as foolish to think the law can justify a guilty sinner. So the law convicts us not only of being sinners before God, but of being helpless sinners.
Does the law create the sin it exposes?
He does not say that through the law comes sin, but only "knowledge of sin." Sin was already there, and it only needed law to bring it out in the form of "transgression." It is as if I say to my child, "you must not touch that knife." My prohibition reveals the tendency in his heart to do his own will. It does not create the tendency; it only reveals it.
The wording is precise: the law gives knowledge of sin, in the singular:
Even as to convincing power, he does not say that through the law comes knowledge "of sins." Conscience already told us that. He says knowledge "of sin." "All have sinned" comes at the end of Romans 3.
If the law cannot justify, that was never its purpose:
The law came in — to do what? To make clear what man was. He did not know himself. But it did not put him right… God did not give it with the aim of justifying. He says it in plain words, "For by works of the law no human being will be justified in his sight." So the aim of the law was not to justify. It was to make clear where man was and what he was. Then he could learn his own helpless ruin, and turn to God to learn what He is.
Verse 20 is the last word of the charge, but not the end of the story:
The beginning of the argument proved the Gentiles ruined, and the end proves the Jews ruined. Every mouth is stopped and the whole world is under judgment to God. What is His sentence? Is there no mercy? There is His righteousness by Christ Jesus, righteousness which justifies the believer.
Notice the timing of God's reply:
The verdict shuts every mouth and brings the whole world in guilty before God. As soon as it falls, God opens His mouth to declare His remedy.
- Verdict — Verse 20 is a sentence, not a suggestion. Man has nothing to say in his defence. He is convicted whether or not he is convinced.
- Perfection — The law fails to justify because it is good. A perfect standard can only expose a flawed man.
- Plumb-line — It measures the crooked wall; it never straightens it. It proves us sinners, and then proves us helpless sinners.
- Sin — The law shows more than wrong acts, which conscience already reports. It shows sin itself.
- Silence — The mouth the law stops is the mouth ready to hear the gospel. The moment man's case collapses, God speaks His own righteousness in Christ.
But now without law righteousness of God is manifested, borne witness to by the law and the prophets;
Paul has just closed his case: every mouth stopped, the whole world guilty before God. Then come two small words — "But now." The subject turns from what man owes to what God has done.
Everything before this verse has been demolition. Here the building starts.
And now the way lies open for the gospel. The shutting of man's mouth opens God's. The exhaustion of man's resources throws the full burden of his salvation onto the arm of God. There is no righteousness in man. The gospel cannot reopen that question; it is closed forever.
The first word of the gospel is not pardon — it is righteousness. That order fits what sin actually is.
God's righteousness means God maintaining all His rights in a right way. This must come first, because sin is lawlessness — man asserting his own will against God's rights. It is fitting, then, that the gospel opens this way. After the terrible unfolding of man's sin, its first word is "the righteousness of God."
Everything turns on where this righteousness comes from.
It is God's, not man's. It has its character, quality, and source from God, not from man… It comes from God for man, not from man for God. So it carries the character and qualities of its source, whoever may be given to benefit from it.
That reframes the very attribute a guilty conscience fears most.
It is natural for a convicted sinner to dread the righteousness of God. He argues that if a holy God deals rightly with a guilty sinner, it can only be to judge him for his sins. It never occurs to the sinner that God can righteously forgive his sins. But when we learn what the righteousness of God is, we discover something else. The very quality in God that we think is against us is the very quality that, above all others, is for us as sinners. It is the solid foundation of our peace as believers.
Law and gospel are not two versions of the same transaction. They run in opposite directions.
The law demanded righteousness from man that he was unable to give. The gospel declares God's righteousness to man, without making any demand on man. It is now clear that God, in righteousness, is proclaiming the forgiveness of sins to the sinner, and justifying the ungodly who believe in Jesus.
So does the gospel cancel the law? The wording of the verse is careful.
Romans 3:21 does not deny that law exists or that it matters. It shows that God's righteousness is now manifested apart from law.
The last clause guards against the idea that God changed His plan. The Old Testament spoke of this righteousness. But speaking of a thing and showing it are not the same.
The law and the prophets did not display the righteousness of God. Yet the law, in various forms, pointed to another righteousness that was coming. The prophets brought it out, if possible, still more clearly in their words. The one supplied types, the others assured that the Lord's righteousness was near to come. But now the gospel tells us it has come. Now divine righteousness is a revealed fact… There is no veil now. There was once, but the death of Christ tore it from top to bottom.
So the newness is in the showing, not in the substance. God had never justified anyone on any other basis.
It is not merely that this righteousness exists; it is now manifested. It existed long before in the purposes of God, since God never justified anyone in any other way. But He did not display it until the gospel was brought out and preached… From Adam onward, no sinner ever stood, or ever could stand, in God's presence except in God's righteousness. But God had not displayed it until now.
Because the righteousness is God's and not man's, the door it opens is as wide as human need.
If this righteousness were man's, it would have to come by the law. The law is the perfect measure of man's righteousness. So it would be only for the Jews, who alone had that law. But it is God's, and by faith, and so for all.
- Verdict. The case against man is closed. He has no righteousness of his own, so God speaks the moment man's mouth is shut.
- Source. The righteousness is God's own. It moves from God to man, never from man to God, so it carries God's character.
- Reversal. The quality a guilty conscience dreads most is the one thing on the believer's side. It is the ground of settled peace.
- Timing. The law and the prophets witnessed to it long before, and no one ever stood before God on any other ground. What is new at the cross is that God now displays it, with no veil.
- Reach. This righteousness comes by faith, not by law. So it is not limited to the people who had the law. It is for all.
righteousness of God by faith of Jesus Christ towards all, and upon all those who believe for there is no difference;
Paul has just shown that Jew and Gentile alike stand guilty, and now he gives God's answer: a righteousness that comes from God, not from man. Two questions run through the verse: whose righteousness is this, and how far does it reach?
A note on wording: older translations read "unto all and upon all them that believe." Much of the comment below turns on that double phrase. The ESV follows different manuscripts and reads "for all who believe."
This righteousness is not a standard God demands from us. It is something God Himself provides.
This righteousness of God is made known in the gospel, entirely apart from the law. The law demanded righteousness from man that he was unable to render. The gospel declares God's righteousness to man, without making any demand upon man... It is now clear that God is righteously proclaiming the forgiveness of sins to the sinner, and justifying the ungodly who believe in Jesus.
Faith is how a person comes to share in this righteousness. One writer also shows what would have followed if the righteousness had been man's own.
It is the righteousness of God by faith in Jesus Christ. Man has not accomplished it, man has not procured it. It is of God, it is His righteousness; by believing in Jesus Christ we come to share in it. Had it been a human righteousness, it would have been by the law, which is the rule of that righteousness — a law given to the Jews only... It is a righteousness of God for man, because no man had any for God. Wherever there is faith, there it is applied. The believer possesses it.
The older reading has two phrases, not one. Kelly argues that both belong there, and that each word carries its own sense.
The manuscripts differ here. Some of the most ancient ones leave out "and upon all." But I agree with those who keep the longer reading. I have little doubt that the words were dropped because the eye or ear caught one "all" and missed the other... The first phrase marks the direction of God's righteousness. It is not, like the law, restricted to a single nation; it addresses itself "unto all" men without exception; but the benefit depends on faith in Jesus Christ, and so it only reaches and takes effect "upon all that believe."
Commentators differ over which reading is original. Another writer pictures the two halves this way:
God's righteousness, so to speak, stretches out its hands kindly towards all men instead of frowning on them. And for those who believe, it comes down on them like a robe, so that they stand dressed in it in God's presence. All this happens without righteousness losing its own proper character in any way, or ceasing to be what it is.
The verse ends by cancelling every distinction between people. The reason is not that every person is equally bad. The reason is the measuring rod.
The only standard for measuring men is "the glory of God." All have fallen short of it — the best as well as the worst — so there is no difference. If it were only a question of conscience, or of human righteousness, there might be some difference. If the standard were only human, some shades of distinction could easily be drawn. But it is not so. All must be ruled by the glory of God, and ruled that way, all fall short alike.
The same words that flatten every human advantage also open the door equally wide.
Grace meets us just as and where we are, and meets all men alike, whether Jew or Gentile, philosopher or simple... All are alike in the ruin — all are alike the objects of the remedy.
The verse names believing, and nothing else. So assurance rests on God's word, not on feelings.
It does not say this righteousness is upon those who have this or that experience, or who feel saved. But if you can say, dear reader, that you are one of those who believe, you have God's word that His "righteousness" is upon you. And if "God's righteousness" is upon you, you are fit to dwell in His presence without a spot.
- Source — the righteousness is God's own, revealed apart from law. The law asked man for what he could not give; the gospel makes no demand at all.
- Channel — it comes by faith in Jesus Christ, not by works. A human righteousness would have come by law, and belonged to one nation.
- Reach — it goes out to all without exception, but takes effect only on those who believe.
- Level ground — the standard is God's glory, not human comparison. So the gap between the best and the worst disappears.
- Rest — all are alike in the ruin and alike the objects of the remedy. The believer's title is God's word, not his own experience.
for all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;
By this point in Romans, the whole human race stands guilty before God. The verse hangs on two words: "all," which leaves nobody out, and "glory," the standard nobody reaches.
The sweep of the word "all" is what makes this sentence so hard to escape. One writer puts the reach of that word next to what human effort can do about it:
Language this wide leaves no one a way out. It puts the whole human family under God's judgement. And nobody can lift themselves out of that condition. No amount of human effort — reforming your life, giving to the poor, and so on — can wash away a single sin.
Saying that everyone falls short does not flatten every sin into the same weight. One writer draws the line carefully. God will judge each person's works. But for salvation, everyone stands on the same ground.
The basic truth of the gospel is that there is no difference between one person and another. That does not mean everyone has sinned the same number of times, or as seriously. The day of judgment will bring out that difference. It will put each person who is not saved by the gospel in his place according to his works. So degrees of sin are real, and God will judge them all with perfect fairness. But that is not a question of salvation. As to that, everybody is precisely on the same footing.
Why "no difference"? It comes down to the standard God uses. Change the standard and you could rank people. Keep God's glory as the standard and the ranking collapses.
God measures people by one standard only: "the glory of God." All have fallen short of it, the best as well as the worst. So there is no difference. If the question were conscience, or human righteousness, there might be some difference. A human standard would let you draw fine distinctions between people. But that is not the standard. God measures everyone by His glory, and by that measure all fall short alike.
Only one man has ever met that standard, which is why comparing ourselves with other people is useless:
There has been only one man in this world whom the glory could own as worthy of it. To Him there came a voice from the excellent glory: "This is my beloved Son, with whom I am well pleased" (2 Peter 1:17). In Him, then, we see what the glory of God requires in a man. Do we match Him? Here alone is the true standard by which we can measure ourselves correctly. Suppose a young man wanted to join the royal guards. There is no point in him arguing that he is the tallest person in town. If he is below the fixed height, he is out.
The two verbs are not in the same tense. The sinning is a finished fact. The falling short is still going on. The writer below quotes an older translation, which reads "do come short" where the ESV reads "fall short."
Not only have all sinned. Notice the wording too: "all do come short of the glory of God." The correct reading is "do come short," not "have come short." What a standard God gives! God does not say, "You have come short of what you ought to be." Most would admit that; but He says, "You have come short of my glory."
Verse 23 ends with a comma. What follows is not a demand but a gift, and one so unexpected that no guilty person would ever have thought to ask for it.
Nothing will meet their case except being "justified by His grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus" (v. 24). But who asked for this? Who pleaded for it? No one. God in His grace, and in keeping with His love, has given what no creature, aware of its own failure, would ever have asked for. You can imagine a cry going up for forgiveness, so that the deserved punishment might be turned aside. But imagine a sinner who really feels how serious his guilt is. Who could dream of him asking the Judge of all the earth to justify him freely by His grace?
If the falling short is still going on, does it stay true of a believer too? One writer says no, and the reason lies outside ourselves:
Does this apply to the believer? On the contrary, no believer comes "short of the glory of God." And how is this? Because there is One in the glory who bore my sins on the cross. And He who is in the glory of God is my life and my righteousness.
- All — the language shuts every door of escape, and no amount of self-improvement removes even one sin.
- Level — degrees of sin are real, and God will judge them; but for salvation everyone stands on the same ground.
- Measure — the standard is God's glory, not conscience or how you compare with other people. By that measure the best and the worst fall short alike.
- Present — the text says we do come short, and the bar is not "what you ought to be" but God's own glory.
- Answered — the verse runs straight on into being justified by His grace as a gift, one no guilty person would have dared to ask for.
being justified freely by his grace through the redemption which [is] in Christ Jesus;
Commentary for this verse has not been generated yet.
whom God has set forth a mercy-seat, through faith in his blood, for [the] shewing forth of his righteousness, in respect of the passing by the sins that had taken place before, through the forbearance of God;
Here God's grace and God's justice meet: a Son set out in public, blood, and a righteousness declared. Commentators ask three things of the verse. What does "propitiation" picture? How does "by his blood" connect to faith? And whose "former sins" had God passed over?
The phrase "put forward" points back to a piece of furniture almost nobody in Israel ever saw. One writer draws the contrast:
The word translated "propitiation" here should certainly read "mercy-seat." Hebrews 9:5 uses the same word and translates it that way. That explains the term "set forth." In the tabernacle, no one saw the mercy-seat in the holiest place except the high priest, and only on the day of atonement. So it was a hidden mercy-seat. By contrast, Christ as the mercy-seat stands in the open — open to everyone in this day of grace, in the preaching of the gospel. Everyone is free, and indeed invited, to approach.
The mercy seat was God's own throne. Blood made it a place of mercy.
The word "propitiatory" is the one the Greek Old Testament uses for the "mercy-seat." ... The mercy-seat was the place in Israel where atonement, or propitiation, stood "set forth." It was the formal basis on which God dwelt in relationship with a sinful people. It was the throne of God, where He dwelt between the cherubim, and the blood sprinkled on it made it a "mercy-seat."
Does the blood attach to faith, or to the propitiation? One writer weighs both views and decides:
This passage is hard to translate, as you can see from the different views people have put forward... The question is this. Do we link "in His blood" with faith? Or do we connect "in His blood" with propitiation, as the means by which propitiation has been made? We adopt the second view without any hesitation. What happened on the day of atonement makes it very clear: the blood sprinkled on the mercy-seat was the propitiation. If that reading is right, faith is how we take hold of Christ, whom God has set forth as the propitiation.
Why does Paul open with propitiation rather than with Christ dying for us? Because of which claim comes first.
Propitiation is what we may call the Godward side of the death of Christ. It deals with the most basic matter of all: meeting God's claims against sin. Meeting the sinner's need must come second. So when Paul unfolds the Gospel in the letter to the Romans, he first mentions the death of Christ as "a propitiation through faith in His blood" (Romans 3:25). Paul does not state substitution plainly until Romans 4:25, where we read of Him as "delivered for our offences."
"Former sins" reaches back to the ages before the Cross. Paul's word here is unusual, and it marks a different kind of dealing:
paresis (from pariemi, "to let pass, relax") occurs only in Romans 3:25. There the Authorised Version renders it "remission." That misses the distinction the passage makes between God's ways with the sins of those before the Cross and after it, now that propitiation has been made through faith in His blood... here we must read "for the passing over of sins done beforehand, through the forbearance of God." The Cross declared God's righteousness in passing over the sins of past ages. At the same time it laid the ground for Him now to be "just and the justifier of him that believes in Jesus."
The ESV reflects this reading with "he had passed over former sins."
If God waited before, does He still merely wait? One writer answers with a picture from everyday debt:
In the first case He showed His righteousness in passing by the sins that had gone before. Strictly speaking, He could not have remitted their sins in justice, because the atoning work was not yet done. But He did pass them over, and this through His forbearance. In the second case He shows His righteousness in the present time. Forbearance is no longer the question, because the work of atonement is done. For who speaks of a creditor's "forbearance" when the debt is paid in full?
- Displayed — Israel's high priest saw the mercy seat once a year, behind a curtain. God has now put it in open view: Christ, set forth as the mercy seat, and everyone is invited to come.
- Blood — Blood turned a throne into a mercy seat. Commentators differ on whether "by his blood" attaches to faith or to the propitiation; the sprinkled blood of the day of atonement favours the propitiation.
- Godward — Propitiation meets God's claims against sin first. The sinner's need comes next, and Paul states substitution later, in Romans 4:25.
- Passed over — The "former sins" are the sins of past ages, before the Cross. Paul's word means passing over, not full remission: the atoning work was not yet done.
- Declared — The Cross showed God righteous in that forbearance. Now it makes Him just, and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus.
for [the] shewing forth of his righteousness in the present time, so that he should be just, and justify him that is of [the] faith of Jesus.
The gospel raises a hard question: how can God forgive sinners and still be right? This verse answers it — at the cross God declared His own righteousness, so He can now call a guilty believer righteous.
The verse says "He might be just." Everything turns on who that "He" is.
May I not ask any fair mind, Who is meant here? "That He might be just and the justifier," etc. — that who might be just? Answer honestly. "That He might be just." Who is He? Is it Christ just? Or is it not God just by virtue of Christ? There can be no doubt in the world... It is by virtue of Christ, or God could not be righteous in this way on behalf of the sinner. Redemption is the righteous groundwork. The blood of Christ deserves at God's hands that the believer should be justified. And God Himself is just in justifying him.
The phrase marks a change from the ages that came before. The earlier "sins" in the passage are often misread.
The phrase "the sins that are past" in our translation does not mean what the wording may suggest. It is not the sins of a man's past life, up to the moment of his justification. It is the sins committed in the ages before Christ, while God held back. But the ground of His forbearance was not yet made clear. Now, "in the present season" of gospel grace, God does not just hold back or "pass over." He justifies: He pronounces righteous. The cross, the blood of atonement, now declares His righteousness both as to the past and in the present.
To justify means to pronounce a person righteous. God's justice is what makes that possible, not what stands in the way.
Christ took my place in death and judgment on the cross, and now I get Christ's place before God, by faith in His blood. Is this right? Clearly so... So God, against whom I have sinned, is "just" when He now justifies me. Jesus was delivered up and condemned for my sin. God then raised Him, to prove His satisfaction and delight in Him and in His work of redemption for me. I might go further and say He would be unjust to Christ to condemn me for those very sins for which He condemned His Son... He judges sin, and justifies the sinner who believes in Jesus.
For the guilty conscience, God's righteousness is the last thing to hope in. This verse turns that around.
The sinner feared God's righteousness. He imagined that justice was against him. Now he finds it is for him. Instead of being against him to condemn him, it is the very thing that witnesses for him. God shows His righteousness by justifying the believer in Jesus — by justifying the ungodly. I am a poor sinner with all my sin on me. I am a wretched, guilty soul standing before a righteous God. And I find that His very righteousness is my friend. It is the thing that justifies me.
The verse names who God justifies. Some point to the next chapter, where God justifies "the ungodly," and wonder if the circle is wider.
It is the believer, and the believer only, whom God justifies... But someone may answer that in the next chapter we read of God justifying "the ungodly." True — but not in his ungodliness. The next words add, "his faith is counted as righteousness." So the word describes his state up to the time when he became a believer. God justified him not as ungodly at that moment, but as a believer.
Knowing who the Justifier is does more than settle an argument. It settles a life.
What comfort, what deep peace it brings into a life! What stability it gives to faith to understand that it is God who justifies! He is "just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus" (Rom. 3:26). In this bright gospel day He can take to Himself the title of "Him who justifies the ungodly" (4:5). Yes, this title is His glory, the righteous triumph of His grace in a world where sin abounded.
- Cause. The blood of Christ is the righteous groundwork. God justifies the believer because of what Christ has done, not despite it.
- Timing. "At the present time" contrasts with the earlier ages, when God held back and passed sins over. Now the cross declares His righteousness, and He does more than hold back: He pronounces righteous.
- Reversal. The righteousness the sinner dreaded now speaks for him. It would be unjust to Christ to condemn the man whose sins were already condemned in Him.
- Reach. God Himself is the Justifier, and He justifies the believer — the believer only. "Ungodly" describes what the man was until he believed.
- Result. Comfort, deep peace and a settled faith — because God calls justifying the ungodly His glory.
Where then [is] boasting? It has been excluded. By what law? of works? Nay, but by law of faith;
Paul has just said that God justifies sinners freely, by His grace alone. So he asks what is left for anyone to boast about — and the answer turns on how justification comes.
Boasting does not vanish because God bans it. It vanishes because there is nothing left to boast about: someone else did the work that saves.
All boasting on our part is shut out. Our blessing depends entirely on the work of another, and we have received the report of that work by faith. If that is so, we clearly have nothing to boast in, as if our own works had secured the blessing. So the Apostle says we reach the conclusion that a man is justified by faith, apart from works of law.
The word "law" appears twice in this verse. Neither time is it a code of rules. It stands for a settled way of operating: one way works for the blessing, the other receives it.
All boasting on man's part is shut out. God's work and God's grace justify man. This is clearly not by a law of works, for then man would have his boasting. It is by the law of faith, which simply receives, through grace, the effect of another's work. We may see here that law is used for a regularly acting principle: the law of faith, the law of works. We shall find this again. There are two principles here: gaining a thing by working, and receiving a thing by faith. What faith receives is indeed another thing — God's righteousness, not man's. We cannot mix the two, so one of them excludes the other.
Paul asks which principle shuts boasting out, and rules out works. On a works basis, boasting would be fair.
The Jews boasted a great deal over the Gentiles. Self-righteousness always boasts. It is not a law of works that can shut it out. A man justifying himself by his works would have something to boast in. It is this law of faith, this divine principle on which we are placed, that shuts it out.
Boasting needs a neighbour to look down on. Faith removes that, since the same principle that saved you can save anyone.
The law of faith excludes boasting. If a man is justified by faith, he has nothing to boast of over his neighbour. The greatest sinner in the world may be justified on the same principle. If a man were justified by works he would have much to boast of, for it would be seen that he was so much better than others. But justification on the principle of faith puts boasting out of court.
The verse leaves no exemption for the person with the best spiritual credentials.
There is, then, no room for man to boast, not even for the Jew, despite all his privileges. Man, whoever he may be, occupies the place of a sinner. Grace, and grace only, avails for all in the same way.
The verse shuts out one kind of boasting, not every kind. Boasting gets a new object instead.
But the Christian has a just ground of boasting. There is One in whom we may and ought to boast — not self, but the Lord... To boast in the Lord is due to Him and good for us; to boast elsewhere is a danger as well as a delusion. It connects more or less directly with self. The approved man is not the one who commends himself, but the one whom the Lord commends.
- Cause: Another did the work that justifies. Faith only receives it, so nothing is left to boast about.
- Principle: "Law" here means a regularly acting principle. Works and faith are two such principles, and one excludes the other.
- Contrast: A law of works could never shut boasting out. A man justifying himself by works would have something to boast in.
- Reach: The greatest sinner may be justified on the same principle. So no one can boast over a neighbour, and no privilege makes an exception.
- Result: Boasting is not deleted but moved. Self is ruled out. The Lord is the one right ground of boasting.
for we reckon that a man is justified by faith, without works of law.
Paul has proved that everyone stands guilty before God, and now he gives the verdict: faith sets a person right with God, apart from law-keeping. So what does "justified" mean, how far does "works of law" reach, and how does this square with James, who says a man is justified by works?
The word "therefore" points back. If all are guilty, only one conclusion is left.
Justification, then, must be on another principle. "For we hold that one is justified by faith apart from works of the law." What else could Scripture conclude? All are guilty. And justification is not what we are to God, but what He is to us, set forth in Christ. Do not mix these two things together. Let your salvation rest entirely on the principle of faith — what God is to you.
To justify is not to improve someone. It is a verdict, and the difficulty lies in who receives it.
To justify a man is to reckon him righteous. No one can ever bring a charge against such a person. Before the throne of judgement he stands acquitted for ever. To justify someone who has done no wrong is simple. Every court in the world can do it. But to justify a sinner is another matter altogether. Only God can solve that problem. Long ago Job and his friend Bildad both asked how a man can be just with God, and both knew that man is fallen and guilty.
"Apart from" marks off two ways of getting something that can never be blended.
All boasting on man's part is shut out. God justifies man by His own work and His own grace. It is not by a law of works, for then man would have something to boast of. It is by the law of faith, which simply receives, through grace, the effect of another's work. Here "law" means a principle that acts in a regular way — the law of faith, the law of works. So we cannot mix the two principles: gaining a thing by working, and receiving a thing by faith (and, indeed, receiving another thing — God's righteousness, not man's). One of them excludes the other. And we conclude not only that a man is justified by faith through Christ's blood by grace, but that it is without works of law — wholly apart from them, to the exclusion of them.
Some take "works of law" to mean only the law given through Moses. The phrase reaches further.
Works of the law are not only works aimed at keeping the law of Moses. They are works aiming at keeping any law at all (literally: "works of law"). The people of Israel proved this in the case of the law of Moses. But it is a general principle. There are no works, there is nothing that man can do, which would make him just or righteous before God.
If faith is the principle, boasting has nowhere to stand.
The law of faith excludes boasting. If a man is justified by faith he has nothing to boast of over his neighbour, since the greatest sinner in the world may be justified on the same principle. If a man were justified by works he would have much to boast of, for it would be seen that he was so much better than others. But justification on the principle of faith puts boasting out of court.
Scripture links justification to grace, to the blood of Christ, and to faith. Does that mean three separate justifications?
By no means. The three expressions convey different thoughts, but they all refer to the same act. The grace of God is the source of our every blessing, the blood of Christ is the channel by which it reaches us, while faith is simply how we take it all for ourselves.
James says a man is justified by works, not by faith alone. The two statements answer different questions.
There is really no difficulty to get out of. In James the whole point is what is valid before man, as verse 18 of that chapter shows. A man has the right to ask that we display our faith in our works, so justifying ourselves and our faith before him. In Romans the whole point is what is valid before God. Our faith is quite plain to His all-seeing eye. He does not have to wait for works, the fruit of faith, to be sure that the faith is real.
- Cause — All are guilty. So justification is not what we are to God, but what He is to us in Christ.
- Verdict — To justify is to reckon a person righteous, so that no charge can ever be brought again. Only God can do that for a sinner.
- Channel — Grace is the source. The blood of Christ is the channel. Faith is how we receive it. One act, described three ways.
- Exclusion — "Works of law" rules out every law, not just the law of Moses. Working and receiving cannot be blended.
- Result — Boasting is out of court, because the worst sinner alive is justified on the same terms. Before men, works display the faith God already sees.
Is [God] the God of Jews only? is he not of [the] nations also? Yea, of nations also
Paul has just said that a person is justified by faith, apart from works of the law. Now he asks who God is: does He belong to the Jews alone, or also to the Gentiles — everyone outside Israel?
The question follows from the verse before it. If law-keeping made a person right with God, only the people who had the law could qualify.
The summing up is therefore in verse 28. A person is justified by faith, without works of law. And the moment we think who God is, this is plain. If the law justified, it could justify only Jews, and only if they kept the whole law. Is He the God of the Jews alone? Thanks be to His name, He is the God of the Gentiles also. So the blessing of justification must rest on some other ground than keeping the law, which was, strictly speaking, given to the Jew alone.
Paul's own answer rests on the oneness of God. If God is one, He cannot be one thing to the Jews, who carried the mark of circumcision, and another to everyone else.
Once we admit that this is God's approved way, He is clearly not God of Jews more than of Gentiles. He is one and the same to both. He will justify circumcised people not by law, as they expect, but by faith. And if uncircumcised people have faith, He will justify them through it too.
That leaves the question of how He is God of both.
And is God a limited God — the God of the Jews only? No, He is also the God of the Gentiles. And how? In grace. One God justifies the Jews, who seek after righteousness, on the principle of faith. And since justification is on the principle of faith, He justifies believing Gentiles by faith too.
Behind the argument lies a plain fact: God made everyone.
He created all men. Will He deny some of them the possibility of being justified from their sins, while granting this blessing to others? Impossible! "God shows no partiality." If "all have sinned," the gospel is for all. If some do not receive it, that is another matter; they will die in their sins. But God's offer is to all, without partiality.
There is also a question of size. Drop the law as the ground of blessing, and what is left is the plain goodness of God.
If we give up the principle of law, and grace is shown by the pure goodness of God, then the apostle's question has only one answer: "Is He the God of Jews only? Is He not the God of Gentiles also?" Will such goodness keep itself inside the limits of a weak and scattered people? Or will it go out to meet the need of the whole world?
If faith is the principle, no group holds a private claim.
If God is the justifier, and justifies on the principle of faith, there can be no boasting. The principle of faith excludes it absolutely. No one can claim a better right to be justified than another. The privilege of faith cannot be offered to any without offering it to all. It is free in every case. No one has a claim upon God for His grace.
This is good news for outsiders. It is also a word to insiders: the Jew enters by the same door as everyone else.
And then the joyful question arises: "Is He the God of Jews only? Is He not the God of Gentiles also?" Our need of salvation, and our dependence on the sovereignty and grace of God, put us all on the same level. God is one, "who will justify the circumcised by faith and the uncircumcised through faith." The Jew must come in on the very same mercy that saves the Gentile.
- One God — He is not the property of one nation. He is "one and the same to both," so He will not deal with one people on terms He denies another.
- One method — justification is by faith, not by law. So the blessing cannot stop with the one nation that had the law.
- One grace — God is God of the nations "in grace." Goodness that large will not stay inside "the limits of a weak and scattered people."
- One level — no one has a prior claim. "The privilege of faith cannot be offered to any without offering it to all." That ends boasting on every side.
- One door — it works both ways. The outsider is welcome, and the insider "must come in on the very same mercy."
since indeed [it is] one God who shall justify [the] circumcision on the principle of faith, and uncircumcision by faith.
Paul has just said that God puts a person right by faith, apart from works of law. If keeping the law of Moses were the way, only one nation could ever be justified — so Paul points to the oneness of God, which opens the door to everyone.
Paul does not start with the Gentile's need. He starts with a question about God, and one writer shows why the narrow answer is impossible.
If a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law, this would favour Gentiles as much as Jews. This very fact has been a great stumbling block to the Jews ever since Christianity has been preached. But "Or is God the God of Jews only? Is He not the God of Gentiles also?" He created all men. Would He deny some of them the possibility of being justified from their sins, while granting this blessing to others? Impossible! God shows no partiality. If "all have sinned," the gospel is for all. If some do not receive it, that is another matter; they will die in their sins. But God's offer is to all, without partiality.
The reason Paul gives is that God is one. That does not deny God once set one nation apart. It says what He has now done.
That is what He must be, and that is what He was even in the Old Testament. It is true that when every race on earth had sunk into idolatry, He chose Israel out from among them, in Abraham, to keep the knowledge of the one God alive on the earth. But now in grace He has taken His place as God over all men, according to the truth of His unchanging right. For it is one and the same God who justifies the circumcised by faith and the uncircumcised through faith.
Paul uses two different words: "by" faith for the Jew, "through" faith for the Gentile. One writer explains what each one means.
"By" means on the principle of faith; "through" means by means of the faith a person actually has. The Jew sought righteousness on a wrong principle. The gospel revealed the true one — faith. If the Gentile had the faith, he had the justification which was given on that principle.
Some scholars say the two phrases mean the same thing. One writer answers that each half of the sentence does its own job.
Justifying the circumcised "out of faith," or on that principle, matters greatly. It shuts out works of law, which most Jews expected. It was just as important to say that God will justify the uncircumcised through their faith, if any of them have it. But is it not strange that a scholar should claim the two phrases mean the same thing, even though the end result is much the same? … Scripture is not loose; scholars sometimes are.
The Jew boasted that the law was his alone. That boast, one writer says, cuts the other way.
The law was for one nation only. That was the boast of the Jew, and it was itself the witness that the law was not, after all, the way of blessing. Could God have forgotten the Gentile like that? … God is drawing near to men — would it be a greater and better thing to say that He is drawing near to the Jew? One might as well claim an exclusive right to sun and rain. The more necessary such blessings are, the more widely they are spread.
The verse does not lift the Gentile up to the Jew's level. It puts both in the same place of need.
Our need of salvation, and our dependence on the sovereignty and grace of God, put us all on the same level. The Jew must come in on the very same mercy that saves the Gentile.
Another writer draws the conclusion about God Himself.
Justification is not limited to the Jew. There is "one God" who justifies the circumcised Jew on the principle of faith, and the uncircumcised Gentile by faith. So it is evident that God is acting towards all in righteousness and grace.
- One God. Because God is one, He cannot bless Israel one way and leave the nations with no way at all. He has taken His place as God over all men.
- One principle. Faith, not works of law, is the ground for both — the Jew was seeking righteousness, but on a false principle.
- Two words. "By faith" names the principle for the Jew. "Through faith" names the means for the Gentile who has that faith. The change of wording is deliberate.
- One level. The law belonged to one nation only, and that proved it was never the road to blessing. The Jew must come in on the very same mercy that saves the Gentile.
- One result. God acts towards all in righteousness and grace, with no partiality. His offer goes out to all.
Do we then make void law by faith? Far be the thought [no,] but we establish law.
The last verse of Romans 3 answers an objection. If God justifies people freely, apart from works of law, does that throw the law away as a mistake?
Jewish readers prized the law as God's own gift. To them this gospel could look like an attack on it.
The last verse of our chapter answers an objection that a zealous Jew might raise. He might say this Gospel message cannot be true, because it makes the law false — and God undeniably gave that law at an earlier time. "No," says Paul, "far from making the law null and void, we establish it by putting it in the place God always intended it to occupy."
Paul answers with a flat refusal. Older versions print it as "God forbid," yet the words themselves never mention God:
This is an unhappy expression, bringing in the name of God where it does not occur. In the Old Testament it is chalilah, "far be it." In the New Testament it is "let it not be."
Christ's death carried the law's sentence out in full. One writer, using an older translation that reads "establish law" rather than "uphold the law," explains with a courtroom picture:
Do we then make void the law, or more properly, law? No; we establish law, not Moses' law, but the principle of law. If a thief is hanging on a tree, is that making void the law? No; so far from making it void, hanging establishes it. But if after the punishment he rose, the law would have inflicted its penalty, and he would be beyond its reach. So then Christ died, and He established the law... But that does not put me under it. If I am under it, I am lost — not just as a sinner, but by the law itself. Nothing establishes the law like the death of Christ.
The same act that satisfied the law's claim also released the one it condemned:
Law was never established so solemnly and so gloriously as when the divine Saviour bore its curse on the cross. The very thing that delivered from its penalty upheld its authority.
Believing does not sidestep the law's judgment; it accepts it as just.
Justifying by faith seems to set the law aside and make it void. It does the opposite: it establishes the law. Its claims are fully recognised, and it stands in all its holiness, justness, and goodness. Justification by faith assumes what this letter has already shown. The sinner takes the place of one condemned under law, proved guilty, his mouth stopped, owning the just sentence the law pronounced on him. That establishes the law in all its force. Indeed, before we could be freed from its condemnation, the Son of God had to die. This is what faith owns.
Some read this verse to mean that Christ kept the law in our place, so that His obedience counts as ours. One writer rejects that, pointing to what the surrounding verses discuss:
Note that the establishing of law in Romans 3:31 has no connection at all with Christ's obeying the law, as some say, to give us active righteousness. The whole passage speaks only of Christ set forth as a mercy seat through faith in His blood. It shows God's righteousness apart from law. The only establishing of law set before our faith here is Christ's death. It says nothing about His making out righteousness for us by obeying the law in His life.
Another writer draws out why a substitute's obedience could not have worked:
Suppose a substitute had kept the law for the offender — though that was impossible. Then no one would ever have paid the penalty the law demands for breaking it. The law would have been broken without consequence, and no sacrifice would have been needed. As Galatians 2:21 says, "if righteousness were through the law, then Christ died for no purpose." Had that been possible, His life, not His death, would have met the need.
The law still has work to do. Its job is to show people their sin:
Justification by faith shuts out the law as a means of blessing. Does that make the law of no effect? On the contrary, justifying the believer on the ground of the precious blood establishes the law. God gave the law to convict men of sin, and for that purpose the law still works.
But the establishment of the law, of which the apostle speaks in Romans 3, has no reference whatever to the question of a rule by which the Christian has to walk. The chapter treats of man's ruin and God's righteousness, not of practice, and shows that faith upholds the authority of the law in the cross of Christ.
The charge in the verse is turned back on the accuser:
The person who pretends to stand under law without being condemned is the one who makes law void.
- Charge. The charge is that faith cancels the law God Himself gave. Paul's answer is a flat refusal: "let it not be."
- Cross. Christ bore the law's full penalty; nothing was set aside. Carrying out a sentence proves a law, it does not cancel it.
- Faith. Faith agrees with the law's verdict: guilty, mouth stopped, condemned. Then it rests on the blood that met the penalty.
- Limit. What establishes the law is Christ's death, not a life of law-keeping counted as ours. And it does not put the believer back under law.
- Reversal. Who cancels the law? The person who claims to stand under it and escape its condemnation.