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.