羅馬書講道集 第 17 章

Brethren, the good pleasure of my heart, and my supplication to God, is for them, unto salvation.

He is about to take hold of them again more vehemently than before;

wherefore he again removes all suspicion of hostility, and employs much preliminary correction.

For do not, he says, give heed to the words, nor to the accusations, but consider that I utter these things not from a hostile mind.

For it belongs not to the same man both to desire their salvation—and not only to desire but even to pray for it—and again to hate and turn away from them;

for by 'good pleasure' here he means his vehement desire.

And observe how he makes even his supplication out of deliberate purpose.

For not merely that they may be delivered from punishment, but that they may also be saved, he makes both great earnestness and prayer.

And not from this alone, but also from what follows, he shows the goodwill which he has toward them.

For from what was possible, as far as he was able, he strains and contends, seeking to find for them at least some shadow of a defence;

and he is not able, being overcome by the nature of the facts.

For I bear them witness, he says, that they have a zeal for God, but not according to knowledge.

These things, then, are worthy of pardon, not of accusation.

For if they are cut off not for the sake of a man, but by reason of zeal, it is just that they should rather be pitied than punished.

But observe how wisely he both granted a favour by the expression, and yet exposed their unseasonable contentiousness.

For being ignorant, he says, of the righteousness of God—

but what follows belongs to an intensified accusation, one that removes every defence.

For seeking, he says, to establish their own righteousness, they did not submit themselves to the righteousness of God.

And he said these things, showing that they went astray rather from contentiousness and love of pre-eminence than from ignorance, and that they did not establish even this very righteousness which is from the legal ordinances;

for the saying, 'Seeking to establish,' is that of one who is intimating this.

And he did not set it down plainly;

for neither did he say that they fell away from both righteousnesses;

but he hinted at it very shrewdly, and with the wisdom that befits him.

For if they are still seeking to establish that righteousness, it is quite plain that they did not establish it.

Because they were not subject to this righteousness, they also fell away from it.

He calls it their own righteousness either because the Law no longer has force, or because it consists of toils and sweat;

but he calls the righteousness that is of faith God's righteousness, because it is wholly of the grace from above, and one is justified not by toils but by the free gift of God.

But those who forever resist the Holy Spirit, contending to be justified through the Law, did not come to faith;

and not having come to faith, nor having received the righteousness that is of it, and being unable to be justified from the Law, they fell away on every side.

For Christ is the end of the Law unto righteousness to everyone that believes.

For since he had spoken of a righteousness and a righteousness, lest those who had believed from among the Jews should think that they possessed the one but were deprived of the other, and were being judged as transgressors of the law;

for indeed these too, being still newcomers, ought to have been in no less fear;

and lest the Jews on the other hand should again expect to set it right, and should say, 'Even if we have not fulfilled it now, yet we shall assuredly fulfil it hereafter'—

he shows that the righteousness is one, and that the former is summed up in this latter, and that he who has chosen this righteousness which is through faith has fulfilled the former also;

but he who has dishonoured this has fallen away from that one together with this.

For if Christ is the end of the Law, he who has not Christ, even though he seem to have that righteousness, has it not;

but he who has Christ, even though he have not perfectly kept the Law, has received the whole.

For indeed the end of medicine is health.

As therefore he who is able to make whole, even though he have not the art of medicine, has the whole;

while he who cannot heal, even though he seem to pursue the art, has fallen away from the whole:

so also in the case of the Law and of faith, he who has this faith has the end of that Law as well;

but he who is outside this faith is a stranger to both.

For what did the Law desire? To make man righteous;

for no one fulfilled it.

This then was the end of the Law, and to this all things looked, and for this all things came to be—both the feasts and the commandments and the sacrifices and all the rest—that man might be justified.

But Christ accomplished this end more fully through faith.

Do not therefore fear, he says, as though you were transgressing the Law by having come to faith;

for you then transgress it, when on account of it you do not believe in Christ;

whereas, if you believe in Him, you have fulfilled that Law also, and far more than it commanded;

for you have received a far greater righteousness.

Then, since these things were mere assertion, he again confirms them from the Scriptures.

Moses writes, he says, of the righteousness which is of the Law.

Moses shows us the righteousness which is of the Law, what sort it is and of what kind.

What sort is it then, and from what does it consist? From the fulfilling of the commandments.

The man that does these things, he says, shall live in them.

And in no other way is it possible to become righteous under the Law, except by fulfilling all things;

but this has been possible for no one.

This righteousness, then, has fallen through.

But tell us also the other righteousness, O Paul, the one that is of grace.

What then is this, and from what does it consist? Hear him clearly describing it.

For since he had refuted that former one, he now passes over to this, and says:

But the righteousness which is of faith speaks thus:

Do not say in your heart:

Who shall ascend into heaven?—that is, to bring Christ down;

or Who shall descend into the abyss?—that is, to bring Christ up from the dead.

But what does it say? The word is near you, in your mouth and in your heart;

that is, the word of faith which we preach: that if you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you shall be saved.

For lest the Jews should say:

How did those who found not the lesser righteousness find the greater? he states an argument beyond all contradiction, that this way is lighter than that one.

For that one requires the fulfilment of all things;

for when you have done all things, then you shall live;

but the righteousness which is of faith does not say this, but what? If you confess with your mouth the Lord Jesus, and believe in your heart that God raised Him from the dead, you shall be saved.

Then, lest by showing it to be easy and cheap he should again seem to make it contemptible, see how he enlarges his discourse concerning it.

For he did not come straightway to that which we have mentioned, but what does he say? But the righteousness which is of faith speaks thus:

Do not say in your heart:

Who shall ascend into heaven?—that is, to bring Christ down;

or Who shall descend into the abyss?—that is, to bring Christ up from the dead.

For just as virtue is opposed through works by sloth and slackness, which loose the sinews of our toils, so that there is need of a soul that keeps strict watch lest it give way;

so also when one must believe, there are reasonings that trouble and corrupt the mind of the many, and there is need of a more vigorous soul to beat them off.

For this very reason he brings these very things into the midst;

and what he did in the case of Abraham, this he does here also.

For there too, having shown him justified from faith, lest he should seem to have received so great a crown in vain and to no purpose, as though the matter were nothing, exalting the nature of faith, he says:

Who against hope believed in hope, to the end that he might become the father of many nations; and being not weak in faith, he considered not his own body now dead, nor yet the deadness of Sarah's womb;

but at the promise of God he did not waver through unbelief, but was strengthened in faith, giving glory to God, and being fully assured that what He had promised, He was able also to perform.

And he showed that there is need both of power and of a lofty soul that receives things beyond hope, and does not stumble at things seen.

This then he does here also, and shows that there is need of a philosophic mind and resolve;

of a mind heaven-high and great.

And he did not say simply 'Do not say,' but 'Do not say in your heart';

that is, Do not even conceive of doubting and saying within yourself.

And how is this possible? Do you see that this above all is proper to faith, namely, for those who have let go all the sequence of reasoning here below to seek after that which is above nature, and casting out the weakness of reasonings, to receive all things from the power of God? And yet the Jews did not merely say these things, but that it is not possible to be justified by faith.

But he brings what has happened round to another point, so that, when he has shown it to be so great a thing that even after it had come to pass it still needed faith, he may justly seem to weave the crown for these men.

And he uses words that are laid down in the Old Testament, always being zealous to escape the charges of innovation and of conflict with it.

For that which he here says concerning faith, Moses says to them concerning the commandment, showing that they enjoyed much beneficence from God.

For it is not possible to say, he says, that one must ascend into heaven and cross a great sea, and only then receive the commandments;

But things so great and so immense, God has made easy for us.

And what does it mean, 'The word is near you'? That is to say, it is easy;

for in your mind and in your tongue is salvation.

It is not by travelling a long road, nor by sailing across the sea, nor by crossing over mountains, that one must in this way be saved;

but even if you are unwilling so much as to step over your own threshold, it is possible for you to be saved while sitting at home;

for in your mouth and in your heart lies the source of salvation.

Then, making the word of faith easy from yet another side as well, he says that God raised Him from the dead.

For consider the dignity of the One who did it, and you will no longer see any difficulty at all in the matter.

Well then, that He is indeed Lord is clear from the resurrection;

which he also said at the very beginning of the Epistle:

'declared to be the Son of God by the resurrection of the dead';

and that the resurrection too is easy has been demonstrated, from the might of the One who made it, even to those who utterly disbelieve.

When therefore the righteousness is both greater and light and readily received, and there is no other way to be justified,

is it not the height of contentiousness to attempt the impossible, having forsaken what is easy and simple? For they could not say that they declined the matter as being burdensome.

Do you see how he strips them of all excuse? For of what defence could they be worthy, who chose the more burdensome and fruitless course, while running past the light one that was able to save them and to provide even those things which the Law had no power to give? For these things are nothing else but the mark of a mind that is merely contentious and in rebellion against God.

For the Law is grievous, but grace is easy;

the Law, though they strive ten thousand times, does not save;

grace furnishes both the righteousness that comes from itself and that which comes from the Law.

What argument, then, will deliver them, who are disposed contentiously toward this one, while clinging to that other in vain and to no purpose? Then, since he has said a great thing, he again confirms it from the Scripture.

'Everyone who believes on Him shall not be put to shame.'

'For there is no distinction between Jew and Greek;'

'for the same One is Lord of all, rich unto all and upon all who call upon Him.'

'For everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.'

Do you see how he adduces testimonies both of faith and of confession? For by saying 'Everyone who believes,' he made faith plain;

and by saying 'Whoever calls upon,' he showed forth confession.

Then again proclaiming the commonness of grace, and repressing their swelling pride—the things he had proved through many arguments before—he now recalls them in brief, showing again that there is nothing between the Jew and the uncircumcised.

'For there is no distinction,' he says, 'between Jew and Greek.'

And what he said concerning the Father in the demonstration about Him, this too he says here concerning Christ.

For just as before, establishing the point, he said:

'Is He the God of the Jews only? Is He not also of the Gentiles? Yes, of the Gentiles also, seeing that God is one;'

'for the same One is Lord of all, rich unto all and upon all who call upon Him,'

he shows Him to be vehemently desirous of our salvation, if indeed He accounts this as His own wealth;

so that not even now should they despair or think that, if only they were willing to repent, they would be beyond pardon.

For He who accounts the saving of us as His own wealth will not cease to be rich;

since this too is riches—that the gift is poured out upon all.

For since this above all disturbed them—that, having enjoyed precedence over the whole inhabited world, they were now by faith being brought down from those thrones, and had nothing more than the rest—

he continually brings in the prophets who chant to them this equality of honour.

'For everyone who believes on Him,' he says, 'shall not be put to shame;'

and, 'Everyone who calls upon the name of the Lord shall be saved.'

And everywhere the word 'Everyone' is set down, that they might not gainsay.

But nothing is worse than vainglory;

for this, this above all things, destroyed them.

Wherefore Christ also said to them:

'How can you believe, receiving glory from one another, and not seeking the glory that is from the only God?' This, together with destruction, brings on much ridicule as well, and even before the punishment there, it wraps a man round here with ten thousand miseries.

And if you please, that you may learn this, let us for the present leave aside the heavens, from which it leads us out, and the hell into which it casts us, and examine the whole matter from this present life.

What, then, is more costly than this? And what could be more shameful and more troublesome? For that this disease is costly is plain from those who spend to no purpose and in vain on theatres and horse-races and other such untimely displays of ambition;

from those who build houses splendid and lavish, and prepare all the other things for a useless superfluity, which it is not possible for the discourse to go over now.

And that one who is thus diseased, being costly and lavish, must of necessity also be rapacious and covetous, is somehow plain to everyone.

For that he may have wherewith to furnish food to the beast, he flings his own hands upon the substance of others.

And why do I speak of substance? For this fire devours not money alone, but even souls, and works not only the present death but also that which is to come.

For vainglory is the mother of hell, and it kindles vehemently that fire, and the venomous worm.

And one might see it prevailing even among the dead, than which what could be worse? For all the other passions are dissolved by death;

but this one forces its way even after death, and strives contentiously to display its own nature in the dead body.

For when men, as they die, charge those they leave behind to raise up for them splendid monuments that consume all their substance, and are eager to lay up beforehand in their burial much prodigality; and while living they insult the poor who approach them over a single obol and a single loaf, yet dying they furnish a lavish table for the worm—what other excess of the disease's tyranny do you seek? From this, too, are born monstrous lusts of the dreadful thing;

for many are led on, not by the beauty of the countenance, nor by the desire of union, but by the wish to boast that 'I tripped up so-and-so, and cast her into adultery.'

And what need is there to tell the other evils that spring from this? For I would rather choose to become the slave of ten thousand barbarians than of vainglory once;

for those men do not lay upon their captives such commands as this one enjoins upon its subjects.

For 'Be a slave to all,' it says, 'whether they happen to be more illustrious than you or more mean;'

'despise your soul, neglect virtue, deride freedom, sacrifice your salvation;'

'and if you do any good thing, do it not for the pleasing of God, but for display before the many, that you may lose the crown that is for these things;'

'and if you give alms, if you fast, undergo the toil indeed, but be zealous to lose the gain.'

What could be more brutal than these injunctions? Hence envy takes its beginning, hence also senselessness, hence also the mother of evils, the love of money.

For the swarm of household servants, and the gold-bearing barbarians, and the parasites, and the flatterers, and the silver-mounted carriages, and the other things yet more ridiculous than these, come about not for the sake of pleasure nor of any need, but only of vainglory.

But that this passion is an evil is somehow plain to everyone;

how, however, we might escape it—this must be told.

Chiefly, if you persuade yourself well that this is a grievous disease, you will take the best beginning of correction;

since even the sick man will quickly seek out the physician, if he first learns this before all else, that he is sick.

But if you seek yet another road of escape from it, look continually toward God, and be content with the glory that is from Him.

And if you see the passion tickling you and stirring you up to tell your fellow servants the good deeds you have accomplished, reckoning again that after the telling no gain comes of it, quench the unseemly desire, and say to your soul:

'Behold, for so long a time you have been in travail to tell your good deeds, and you did not have the endurance to keep it fast in silence, but you carried it out to all;'

What more, then, has come to you from this? Nothing more, but the utmost loss, and the emptying of all that was gathered together with much toil.

After this, consider also this: that the vote and judgment of the multitude is corrupt, and not only corrupt, but also that it quickly withers away.

For even if they admire you for an hour, once the moment has passed they have forgotten all; and they have snatched away the crown that was given you by God, while the crown from themselves they had no power to preserve for you.

And yet, even if this crown were to abide, it would be great wretchedness to exchange that one for this;

but when this too flows away, what defense shall we have, betraying that which abides for that which does not abide, and losing so many good things for the praise of a few? And indeed, even if there were many who praise, they too are worthy to be pitied — and all the more so when those who do this are more numerous.

But if you marvel at what has been said, hear Christ Himself casting this same vote:

'Woe unto you,' He says, 'when all men shall speak well of you.'

For if in every craft we must seek out the master-craftsmen as judges, how is it that you entrust the testing of virtue to the multitude, and not, before all others, to Him who knows it best of all, and is able both to train and to crown? Let us, then, inscribe this saying upon our walls and doors and minds, and continually say to ourselves:

'Woe unto us, when all men shall speak well of us.'

For even those very ones who praise you afterward slander you as vainglorious and ambitious and enamored of their acclaim.

But God is not so; rather, when He sees you enamored of the glory that comes from Him, then most of all will He praise you and admire you and proclaim you aloud.

But man is not so; rather, taking you as a slave in place of a free man, and by a bare word often bestowing on you a false praise,

he has snatched from you the true reward, and has subjected you more utterly than a slave bought with silver.

For those slaves their masters have obeying them only after commands are given; but you serve even without any command.

For you do not even wait to hear anything from them; rather, if only you have learned by what means you may gratify them, you do everything even without their commanding.

Of how great a gehenna, then, should we not be worthy — delighting the wicked, and waiting upon them before ever they command, while God, who each day urges and exhorts us, we will not so much as heed? And yet, if it is glory and praises you crave, flee the praise that comes from men, and then you shall attain glory.

turn away from the acclamations, and then you shall enjoy praises without number, both with God and with men.

For we are wont to glorify no one so much as him who despises glory, nor to praise and admire any so much as him who scorns being admired and praised;

and if we do so, much more does the God of all.

And when He glorifies and praises you, who could be more blessed than you? For as great as is the distance between glory and dishonor, so great is the difference between the glory from above and that which is human;

or rather, far greater still, and indeed infinite.

For if this human glory, even when compared with nothing at all, is a shameful and unseemly thing, then when we set it side by side with that other glory, consider how great its shame will appear.

For just as a harlot standing upon the housetop gives her whole self up to all, so also do the slaves of vainglory;

or rather, these are even more shameful than she.

For those women have often disdained some of those who were enamored of them;

but you have set yourself forth to all alike — to runaways and robbers and cutpurses.

For it is of these and of such as these that the theaters which applaud you are composed;

and those whom, taken each by himself, you reckon to be worth nothing — these, when gathered together, you prefer above your own salvation, and you declare yourself more dishonorable than every one of them.

For how is he not more dishonorable who craves the acclaim of such men, and does not think it enough for himself unless he receive glory from others? Tell me, do you not consider, along with what has been said, that being conspicuous and manifest to all, if you sin you have accusers past counting;

but being unknown, you would remain in safety? 'Yes,' he says;

'but when I do well I have admirers without number.'

For this is the dreadful thing: that the disease of vainglory harms you not only when you sin, but even when you do well — at the one time tripping you up ten thousand ways, at the other emptying out all your reward.

Dreadful, then, and filled with every dishonor, is it to love glory even in civil affairs;

but when you suffer this very same thing in spiritual matters, what pardon is left you thereafter, since you are unwilling to render even so much honor to God as you yourself receive from your own household servants? For the slave looks to the eyes of his master, and the hired man to the lord of the work who is about to pay the wages, and the disciple to his teacher;

but you do the very opposite: forsaking God, who has hired you, and the Master, you look to your fellow-servants — and this though you know that God bears your good deeds in remembrance even unto the things that come after, while man remembers only for the present;

and though you have your theater seated in heaven, you gather to yourself spectators on earth.

And the athlete, where he contends, there he wishes to win renown;

but you, though contending above, are eager to be crowned below.

And what could be worse than this folly? But let us look, if you please, at the crowns themselves:

for one is woven of arrogance, another of envy toward one's neighbor, another of dissimulation and flattery, another of money, another of a servile disposition.

And just as little children at their play set a crown of grass upon one another, and often laugh behind the back of the one crowned, who knows nothing of it,

so also now those who laud you have often mocked you among themselves, setting the grass upon our heads;

and now the crown is laden with much harm, and destroys all our good deeds.

Considering, then, its worthlessness, flee the loss.

For how many praisers do you wish to have? A hundred, or twice that number, or thrice, or four times? Or rather, if you will, set them at ten times as many, and twenty times, and let them be two thousand and four thousand;

and if you will, let those who applaud be even ten thousand;

yet these differ in nothing from cawing jackdaws;

or rather, if you will but consider the theater of the angels, these will appear more contemptible than worms, and their acclaim feebler than a spider's web, feebler than smoke and dreams.

Hear, then, how Paul, who had accurately weighed these things, not only does not seek them, but even prays to be delivered from them, saying:

'But God forbid that I should glory, save in the cross of Christ.'

This boasting, then, do you also emulate, that you may not provoke the Master.

For in doing this you insult God, and not yourself alone.

For not even if you were a painter and had some disciple, and he, instead of displaying to you the fruits of his art, simply set the panel out of doors before casual passers-by, would you bear it mildly.

But if this is an insult in the case of fellow-servants, much more so in the case of the Master.

But if from another quarter you would learn to despise the thing, become lofty in mind, laugh at the things that are seen, increase within you the love of the true glory, be filled with a spiritual mindset, and say to your soul, as Paul said:

'Know ye not that we shall judge angels?' And having raised it up from thence, rebuke it thereafter and say:

'You who shall judge angels — do you wish to be judged by the very refuse of men, and to be praised together with dancers and mimes and beast-fighters and charioteers? For it is these acclamations that such men pursue.'

But do you fashion your wing to soar higher than their clamor, and emulate John, the citizen of the wilderness; and learn how he looked down upon the multitude, and seeing those who flattered him was not moved, but seeing all the inhabitants of Palestine poured out around him, admiring and astonished, was not puffed up by so great an honor, but even rose up against them, and, conversing with so great a throng as though with a single stripling, thus rebuked them, saying:

And yet it was on his account that they had run together and left their cities behind, that they might behold that sacred head;

but nevertheless none of these things unnerved him;

for he was far removed from glory, and free from all conceit.

So too Stephen, seeing this same people again — not honoring him now, but raging and gnashing their teeth — became loftier than their fury, and said:

'Ye stiffnecked and uncircumcised in heart!'

So too Elijah, when those armies were present, and the king, and all the people, said:

'How long will ye go limping upon both your hams?' But we flatter all men, wait upon them, and with this servile ministry purchase their honor.

For this reason all things have been turned upside down, and we have fallen away from this grace, and the affairs of Christianity have been betrayed, and all things have been neglected, on account of the glory that comes from the multitude.

Let us, then, banish this passion, and then shall we rightly come to know freedom, and the harbor, and the calm.

For the vainglorious man resembles those tossed in a storm, ever trembling and afraid and waiting upon masters without number;

but he who is outside this tyranny resembles those seated in harbors and enjoying a pure freedom.

But not so the other man; rather, to as many as he is known, so many masters has he, being compelled to serve them all.

How, then, shall we be delivered from this grievous bondage? If we fall in love with another glory, the glory that is truly glory.

For just as, in the case of those who are enamoured of bodily beauty, the appearing of another and more radiant countenance withdraws them from the former;

even so also those who desire the glory that is among us, the glory that shines forth from the heavens will be able to lead away from this present glory.

Let us therefore behold that glory, and let us learn it accurately, so that, marvelling at its beauty, we may flee the shamefulness of this present glory, and may enjoy much pleasure, delighting in that other continually;

which may it be granted us all to attain, by the grace and lovingkindness of our Lord Jesus Christ, with whom, to the Father together with the Holy Spirit, be glory, might, and honour, now and ever, and unto the ages of ages. Amen.