Romans 2:25–26

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.