Homilies on the Epistle to the Romans — Homily 12 — Romans 6:19

Romans 6:19

Rom. VI. 19

I am speaking in human terms because of the weakness of your flesh: for just as you presented your members (as 4 manuscripts have it, the members of your flesh) as slaves to impurity and to lawlessness leading to more lawlessness, so now present your members as slaves to righteousness leading to holiness.

I speak after the manner of men because of the infirmity of your flesh: for as you have yielded your members (so 4 manuscripts Sav. the members of your flesh) servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness.

Since Paul had demanded a very strict way of life, telling us to be dead to the world, to have died to wickedness, and to have no inclination toward sin's workings, and since he seemed to be asking something great and difficult—even too much for human nature—he wants to show that he is not making any unreasonable demand. In fact, he is not even asking as much as might be expected from someone who has received such a great gift, but rather something quite moderate and light. He proves this by using opposites, and says, "I speak after the manner of men," as if to say, "I'm using human reasoning—the kind people commonly use." He means either this, or he is indicating the moderateness of his demand by the phrase "after the manner of men." He uses the same expression elsewhere: "There has no temptation taken you but such as is common to man" (1 Corinthians 10:13), meaning moderate and small. "For as you have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness." The masters are indeed very different, but I am asking for an equal amount of servitude. People ought to give a much greater amount—greater in proportion to how much better this mastership is than the other. Nevertheless, I make no greater demand because of the infirmity, and notice he does not say the infirmity of your free will or readiness of spirit, but "of your flesh," making what he says less harsh. Yet on one side there is uncleanness, on the other holiness; on one side iniquity, on the other righteousness. Who is so miserable and desperate, he says, as not to devote as much effort to serving Christ as to serving sin and the devil? Now listen to what follows, and you will see clearly that we do not even spend this little. When stated so plainly, it does not seem believable or easy to accept, and no one would want to hear that he does not serve Christ as much as he once served the devil. Paul proves it by what follows and makes it believable by bringing that old slavery before our eyes and describing how they served him.

Since he had required great strictness of life, charging us to be dead to the world, and to have died unto wickedness, and to abide with no notion towards the workings of sin, and seemed to be saying something great and burdensome, and too much for human nature; through a desire to show that he is not making any exorbitant demand, nor even as much as might be expected of one who enjoyed so great a gift, but one quite moderate and light, he proves it from contraries, and says, I speak after the manner of men, as much as to say, Going by human reasonings; by such as one usually meets with. For he signifies either this, or the moderateness of it, by the term applied, after the manner of men. For elsewhere he uses the same word. There has no temptation taken you but such as is common to man 1 Corinthians 10:13, that is, moderate and small. For as you have yielded your members servants to uncleanness and to iniquity unto iniquity; even so now yield your members servants to righteousness unto holiness. And truly the masters are very different ones, but still it is an equal amount of servitude that I ask. For men ought to give a much larger one, and so much the larger as this is a greater and better mastership than the other. Nevertheless I make no greater demand because of the infirmity, and that, he does not say of your free will or readiness of spirit, but of your flesh, so making what he says the less severe. And yet on one side there is uncleanness, on the other holiness: on the one iniquity, and on the other righteousness. And who is so wretched, he says, and in such straits as not to spend as much earnestness upon the service of Christ, as upon that of sin and the devil? Hear then what follows, and you will see clearly that we do not even spend this little. For when (stated in this naked way) it does not seem credible or easy to admit, and nobody would endure to hear that he does not serve Christ so much as he did serve the devil, he proves it by what follows, and renders it credible by bringing that slavery before us, and saying how they did serve him.

For when you were servants of sin, you were free from righteousness.

Ver. 20. For when you were the servants of sin, you were free from righteousness.

Paul's point is something like this: When you lived in wickedness, impiety, and the worst of evils, your state of compliance was such that you did absolutely no good thing at all. For this is what "you were free from righteousness" means—that is, you were not subject to it but completely estranged from it. You did not even divide your servitude between righteousness and sin, but gave yourselves entirely to wickedness. Now, therefore, since you have come over to righteousness, give yourselves entirely to virtue, doing nothing at all of vice, so that the measure you give may be at least equal. Yet it is not only the mastership that is so different, but in the servitude itself there is a vast difference. And he unfolds this with great clarity, showing what conditions they served under then and what conditions now. As yet he says nothing of the harm that comes from the thing, but so far speaks only of the shame.

Now what he says is somewhat of this kind, When ye lived in wickedness, and impiety, and the worst of evils, the state of compliance ye lived in was such that you did absolutely no good thing at all. For this is, you were free from righteousness. That is you were not subject to it, but estranged from it wholly. For you did not even so much as divide the manner of servitude between righteousness and sin, but gave yourselves wholly up to wickedness. Now, therefore, since you have come over to righteousness, give yourselves wholly up to virtue, doing nothing at all of vice, that the measure you give may be at least equal. And yet it is not the mastership only that is so different, but in the servitude itself there is a vast difference. And this too he unfolds with great perspicuity, and shows what conditions they served upon then, and what now. And as yet he says nothing of the harm accruing from the thing, but hitherto speaks of the shame.

What benefit did you have back then from those things that now make you ashamed?

Ver. 21. What fruit had ye then in those things whereof you are now ashamed?

The slavery was so great that even remembering it now makes you ashamed. But if the memory makes you ashamed, the actual experience would have made you much more so. So you have gained in two ways now: you have been freed from the shame, and you have also come to understand the condition you were in. Just as before you were harmed in two ways: you were doing things that deserved shame, and you didn't even know enough to be ashamed. This second harm is worse than the first. Yet you remained in a state of slavery. Having abundantly proven the harm of what happened then by pointing to the shame of it, he now comes to the main point. What is this point? For the end of those things is death. Since shame might not seem like such a serious evil, he moves to what is truly fearful—I mean death. Though in truth what he had already mentioned was enough. Consider how extremely great the harm must be, since even when freed from the punishment it deserved, they could not free themselves from the shame. What wages, then, he asks, do you expect from the actual reality, when from the mere memory alone—even though you are now freed from the punishment—you hide your face and blush, despite being under such grace as you are! But God's side is completely different.

So great was the slavery, that even the recollection of it now makes you ashamed; but if the recollection makes one ashamed, the reality would much more. And so you gained now in two ways, in having been freed from the shame; and also in having come to know the condition you were in; just as then you were injured in two ways, in doing things deserving shame, and in not even knowing to be ashamed. And this is worse than the former. Yet still ye kept in a state of servitude. Having then proved most abundantly the harm of what took place then from the shame of it, he comes to the thing in question. Now what is this thing? For the end of those things is death. Since then shame seems to be no such serious evil, he comes to what is very fearful, I mean death; though in good truth what he had before mentioned were enough. For consider how exceeding great the mischief must be, inasmuch as, even when freed from the vengeance due to it, they could not get free of the shame. What wages then, he says, do you expect from the reality, when from the bare recollection, and that too when you are freed from the vengeance, you hide your face and blush, though under such grace as you are! But God's side is far otherwise.

Now that you have been made free from sin and have become servants to God, you have your fruit unto holiness, and the end is everlasting life.

Ver. 22. For now being made free from sin, and become servants to God, you have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting life.

The fruit of the former way was shame, even after being set free. The fruit of these things is holiness, and where holiness is, there is complete confidence. But the end of those things is death, and the end of these is everlasting life. Do you see how he points out some things as already given and some as existing in hope, and from what is already given he draws proof of the others as well—that is, from the holiness of life. For to prevent you from saying (as an objection) that everything lies in hope, he points out that you have already reaped fruits: first, being freed from wickedness and such evils that the very memory of them puts one to shame; second, being made a servant to righteousness; third, enjoying holiness; fourth, obtaining life—and life not for a season, but everlasting. Yet with all these things, he says, simply serve as you served it. For though the master is far preferable, and the service also has many advantages, and the rewards for which you are serving are greater, still I make no further demand. Next, since he had mentioned arms and a king, he continues with the metaphor in these words:

Of the former, the fruit was shame, even after the being set free. Of these the fruit is holiness, and where holiness is, there is all confidence. But of those things the end is death, and of these everlasting life. Do you see how he points out some things as already given, and some as existing in hope, and from what are given he draws proof of the others also, that is from the holiness of the life. For to prevent your saying (i.e. as an objection) everything lies in hope, he points out that you have already reaped fruits, first the being freed from wickedness, and such evils as the very recollection of puts one to shame; second, the being made a servant unto righteousness; a third, the enjoying of holiness; a fourth, the obtaining of life, and life too not for a season, but everlasting. Yet with all these, he says, do but serve as you served it. For though the master is far preferable, and the service also has many advantages, and the rewards too for which you are serving, still I make no further demand. Next, since he had mentioned arms and a king, he keeps on with the metaphor in these words:

The wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord.

Ver. 23. For the wages of sin is death, but the gift of God is eternal life, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

After speaking of the wages of sin, in the case of blessings he has not kept to the same order (taxis): for he does not say "the wages of good deeds," but "the gift of God," to show that it was not by their own effort that they were freed, nor was it something owed to them, neither a return nor a payment for their labors, but all these things came about by grace. And so there was superiority in this respect also, in that He not only freed them or changed their condition for the better, but that He did it without any labor or effort on their part, and that He not only freed them but also gave them much more than before, and that through His Son. And Paul has inserted all of this because he has been discussing the subject of grace and is about to challenge the Law next. So that these things might not make them careless, he inserted the section about strictness of life, using every opportunity to rouse the hearer to the practice of virtue. For when he calls death the wages of sin, he alarms them again and guards them against dangers to come. For the words he uses to remind them of their former condition he also uses to make them thankful and more secure against any attacks of temptation. Here then he brings the exhortation to a stop and proceeds with the doctrines again, speaking as follows.

After speaking of the wages of sin, in the case of the blessings, he has not kept to the same order ( τάξιν, rank or relation): for he does not say, the wages of good deeds, but the gift of God; to show, that it was not of themselves that they were freed, nor was it a due they received, neither yet a return, nor a recompense of labors, but by grace all these things came about. And so there was a superiority for this cause also, in that He did not free them only, or change their condition for a better, but that He did it without any labor or trouble upon their part: and that He not only freed them, but also gave them much more than before, and that through His Son. And the whole of this he has interposed as having discussed the subject of grace, and being on the point of overthrowing the Law next. That these things then might not both make them rather listless, he inserted the part about strictness of life, using every opportunity of rousing the hearer to the practice of virtue. For when he calls death the wages of sin, he alarms them again, and secures them against dangers to come. For the words he uses to remind them of their former estate, he also employs so as to make them thankful, and more secure against any inroads of temptations. Here then he brings the hortatory part to a stop, and proceeds with the doctrines again, speaking on this wise.

Chapter 7, verse 1. Don't you know, brothers—for I am speaking to those who know the Law.

Chap. vii. ver. 1. Do you not know, brethren, for I speak to them that know the Law.

Since he had said that we are dead to sin, he now shows that not only sin but also the Law has no dominion over them. And if the Law has no dominion, much less does sin. To make his language more acceptable, he uses a human example to make this clear. He appears to be stating one point, but he actually presents two arguments at once for his position. The first is that when a husband is dead, the woman is no longer subject to her husband, and nothing prevents her from becoming the wife of another man. The second is that in this case, not only the husband is dead but the wife also. So one can enjoy freedom in two ways. Now if the husband's death frees her from his power, when the woman is also shown to be dead, she is even more free. For if the one event frees her from his power, how much more does the occurrence of both together. As he is about to prove these points, he begins with praise for his hearers in these words: Do you not know, brethren, for I speak to them that know the Law—that is, I am saying something that is well established and clear, and to men who know all these things accurately.

Since then he had said, we are dead to sin, he here shows that not sin only, but also the Law, has no dominion over them. But if the Law has none, much less has sin: and to render his language palatable, he uses a human example to make this plain by. And he seems to be stating one point, but he sets down at once two arguments for his proposition. One, that when a husband is dead, the woman is no longer subject to her husband, and there is nothing to prevent her becoming the wife of another man: and the other, that in the present case it is not the husband only that is dead but the wife also. So that one may enjoy liberty in two ways. Now if when the husband is dead, she is freed from his power, when the woman is shown to be dead also, she is much more at liberty. For if the one event frees her from his power, much more does the concurrence of both. As he is about to proceed then to a proof of these points, he starts with an encomium of the hearers, in these words, Do you not know, brethren, for I speak to them that know the Law, that is, I am saying a thing that is quite agreed upon, and clear, and to men too that know all these things accurately,

How does the Law have dominion over a man as long as he lives?

How that the Law has dominion over a man as long as he lives?

He does not say husband or wife, but man—a term that applies to either sex. For he says that the one who has died is freed (Greek: justified) from sin. The Law, then, is given for the living, but it ceases to apply (or to give commands) to the dead. Do you see how he presents a twofold freedom? Next, after suggesting this at the beginning, he continues his argument by way of proof, using the example of the woman, in the following way.

He does not say, husband or wife, but man, which name is common to either creature; For he that is dead, he says, is freed (Gr. justified) from sin. The Law then is given for the living, but to the dead it ceases to be ordained (or to give commands). Do you observe how he sets forth a twofold freedom? Next, after hinting this at the commencement, he carries on what he has to say by way of proof, in the woman's case, in the following way.

In verses 2 and 3, the woman who has a husband is bound by the Law to her husband as long as he lives. But if the husband dies, she is released from the Law concerning her husband. Therefore, if she marries another man while her husband is still alive, she is called an adulteress. But if her husband dies, she is free from that law, so that she is not an adulteress even if she marries another man.

Ver. 2, 3. For the woman which has an husband is bound by the Law to her husband, so long as he lives: but if the husband be dead, she is loosed from the Law of her husband. So then, if while her husband lives, she be married to another man, she is called an adulteress: but if her husband be dead, she is free from that law; so that she is no adulteress, though she be married to another man.

He keeps hammering away at this point with great precision, since he feels completely confident in the argument based on it. He casts the Law in the role of the husband and all believers in the role of the woman. Then he draws his conclusion in such a way that it doesn't match up with the premise. What the logic would demand is this: "and so, my brethren, the Law does not rule over you, because it is dead." But he doesn't say that. Instead, he only hints at it in the premise, and then later in the conclusion, to keep what he's saying from being offensive, he presents the woman as the one who has died by saying,

He keeps continually upon this point, and that with great exactness, since he feels quite sure of the proof grounded on it: and in the husband's place he puts the Law, but in the woman's, all believers. Then he adds the conclusion in such way, that it does not tally with the premiss; for what the context would require would be, and so, my brethren, the Law does not rule over you, for it is dead. But he does not say so, but only in the premiss hinted it, and in the inference, afterwards, to prevent what he says being distasteful, he brings the woman in as dead by saying,

Therefore, my brothers, you also have become dead to the Law.

Wherefore, my brethren, you also have become dead to the Law.

As both outcomes lead to the same freedom, what would prevent him from speaking well of the Law without harming his argument? For the woman who has a husband is bound by the Law to her husband as long as he lives. What about those who speak against the Law now? Let them listen to how, even when pressed on this point, he does not strip the Law of its dignity but speaks highly of its authority. If while it is alive the Jew is bound to it, and those who break it and abandon it while it still lives are called adulterers, then if they leave it after it has died, this should not be surprising. For in human matters no one is blamed for doing this. But if the husband is dead, she is freed from the law of her husband. Notice how in the illustration he shows the Law as dead, but in drawing his conclusion he does not do so. So then if while her husband lives, the woman is called an adulteress. See how he emphasizes the accusations against those who break the Law while it is still living. But since he had ended it, he then speaks favorably of it with complete confidence, without harming the faith by doing so. For if while her husband lives she is married to another man, she is called an adulteress. So it would have been natural to say next, "You also, my brothers, now that the Law is dead, will not be judged guilty of adultery if you are married to another husband." Yet he does not use these words, but instead says what? You have become dead to the Law. If you have been made dead, you are no longer under the Law. For if when the husband is dead the woman is no longer subject to it, how much more when she herself is also dead is she freed from the former relationship. Do you see the wisdom of Paul, how he shows that the Law itself intends that we should be separated from it and married to another? For there is nothing, he means, against your living with another husband now that the former is dead. How could there be, since when the husband was alive it allowed this to the woman who had a certificate of divorce? But he does not mention this, as it would be more of an accusation against the woman. For although this had been permitted, it was still not free from blame. Yet in cases where he has won the argument through necessary and reliable proofs, he does not pursue questions beyond his purpose, not being nitpicking. The marvel then is this: that it is the Law itself that clears us who are divorced from it of any accusation, and so its intention was that we should become Christ's. For it is dead itself, and we are dead, and the grounds for its authority over us are removed in two ways. But he is not satisfied with this alone, but also adds the reason for it. For he has not mentioned death without a specific purpose, but brings in the cross again, which had accomplished these things, and in this way also he places us under obligation. For you have not simply been set free, he means, but it was through the Lord's death. For he says,

As then the one or the other event gives rise to the same freedom, what is there to prevent his showing favor to the Law without any harm being done to the cause? For the woman which has an husband is bound by the Law to her husband as long as he lives. What has become now (3 manuscripts then) of those that speak evil of the Law? Let them hear, how even when forced upon it, he does not bereave it of its dignity, but speaks great things of its power; if while it is alive the Jew is bound, and they are to be called adulterers who transgress it, and leave it whiles it is alive. But if they let go of it after it has died, this is not to be wondered at. For in human affairs no one is found fault with for doing this: but if the husband be dead, she is loosed from the law of her husband. You see how in the example he points out the Law as dead, but in the inference he does not do so. So then if it be while her husband lives, the woman is called an adulteress. See how he dwells upon the accusations of those who transgress the Law, while it is yet living. But since he had put an end to it, he afterwards favors it with perfect security, without doing any harm hereby to the faith. For if while her husband lives, she be married to another man, she is called an adulteress. Thus it would have been natural to say next, you also, my brethren, now the Law is dead, will not be judged guilty of adultery, if you become married to another husband. Yet he does not use these words, but what? You have become dead to the Law; if you have been made dead, you are no longer under the Law. For if, when the husband is dead, the woman is no longer liable to it, much more when herself is dead also she is freed from the former. Do you note the wisdom of Paul, how he points out that the Law itself designs that we should be divorced from it, and married to another? For there is nothing, he means, against your living with another husband, now the former is dead; for how should there be, since when the husband was alive it allowed this to her who had a writing of divorcement? But this he does not set down, as it was rather a charge against the woman; for although this had been granted, still it was not cleared of blame. Matthew 19:7-8 For in cases where he has gained the victory by requisite and accredited proofs, he does not go into questions beyond the purpose; not being captious. The marvel then is this, that it is the Law itself that acquits us who are divorced from it of any charge, and so the mind of it was that we should become Christ's. For it is dead itself, and we are dead; and the grounds of its power over us are removed in a twofold way. But he is not content with this alone, but also adds the reason of it. For he has not set down death without special purpose, but brings the cross in again, which had wrought these things, and in this way too he puts us under an engagement. For you have not been freed merely, he means, but it was through the Lord's death. For he says,

You have become dead to the Law through the Body of Christ.

You have become dead to the Law by the Body of Christ.

He bases his exhortation not only on this point, but also on the fact that this second husband is far superior. And so he continues: that you should be married to another, namely to Him Who is raised from the dead.

Now it is not on this only he grounds his exhortation, but also on the superiority of this second husband. And so he proceeds: that you should be married to another, even to Him Who is raised from the dead.

To prevent them from saying, "If we don't choose to live with another husband, what then? The Law doesn't make the widow who enters a second marriage an adulteress, but it doesn't force her into it either"—so they won't say this, he shows that the benefits already given to us make it binding on us to choose it. He states this more clearly in other passages where he says, "You are not your own," and "You are bought with a price," and "Be not the servants of men" (1 Corinthians 6:19-20; 7:23), and again, "One died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them" (2 Corinthians 5:15). This is what he's alluding to here with the words "by the Body." Next he urges them toward better hopes, saying, "That we should bring forth fruit unto God." For then, he means, you brought forth fruit unto death, but now unto God.

Then to prevent their saying, If we do not choose to live with another husband, what then? For the Law does not indeed make an adulteress of the widow who lives in a second marriage, but for all that it does not force her to live in it. Now that they may not say this, he shows that from benefits already conferred, it is binding on us to choose it: and this he lays down more clearly in other passages, where he says, You are not your own; and, You are bought with a price; and, Be not ye the servants of men 1 Corinthians 6:19-20; 7:23; and again, One died for all, that they which live should not henceforth live unto themselves, but unto Him which died for them. 2 Corinthians 5:15 This is then what he here alludes to in the words, By the Body. And next he exhorts to better hopes, saying, That we should bring forth fruit unto God. For then, he means, you brought forth fruit unto death, but now unto God.

For when we were in the flesh, the motions of sins, which were by the Law, did work in our members to bring forth fruit unto death.

Ver. 5. For when we were in the flesh, the motions of sins, which were by the Law, did work in our members to bring forth fruit unto death.

You see then what benefit came from the former husband! And he does not say "when we were in the Law"—he consistently avoids this phrase in every passage to keep from giving heretics an opportunity. Instead he says "when we were in the flesh," meaning when we were engaged in evil deeds, living a carnal life. What he means is not that they previously had bodies but now walk around without them. Rather, by saying this, he neither claims that the Law causes sins nor clears it from being disliked. For the Law held the position of a harsh prosecutor by exposing their sins, since a law that commands more to someone who has no intention of obeying actually makes the offense worse. This is why he does not say "the motions of sins which were produced by the Law," but rather "which were by the Law" without adding "produced"—simply "by the Law," meaning which were made visible through the Law, which were made known. Next, to avoid accusing the flesh itself, he does not say "which the members committed," but "which did work in our members," to show that the source of the harm was elsewhere—from the thoughts which operated in us, not from the members in which they operated. For the soul functions as a performer, and the physical body as a lyre that sounds according to how the performer makes it sound. Therefore the discordant music must be attributed to the former rather than to the latter.

You see then the gain to be got from the former husband! And he does not say when we were in the Law, so in every passage shrinking from giving a handle to heretics; but when we were in the flesh, that is, in evil deeds, in a carnal life. What he says then is, not that they were in the flesh before, but now they went about without any bodies; but by saying what he does, he neither says that the Law is the cause of sins, nor yet frees it from odium. For it held the rank of a bitter accuser, by making their sins bare: since that, which enjoins more to him who is not minded to obey at all, makes the offense greater. And this is why he does not say, the motions of sins which were produced by the Law, but which were through the Law Romans 2:27, without adding any produced, but simply through the Law, that is to say, which through the Law were made apparent, were made known. Next that he might not accuse the flesh either; he does not say which the members wrought, but which did work (or were wrought) in our members, to show that the origin of the mischief was elsewhere, from the thoughts which wrought in us, not from the members which had them working in them. For the soul ranks as a performer, and the fabric of the flesh as a lyre, sounding as the performer obliges it. So the discordant tune is to be ascribed not to the latter, but to the former sooner than to the latter.

He says, "But now we are delivered from the Law" (using the word katērgēthēmen, meaning "made of no effect").

Ver. 6. But now, he says, we are delivered from the Law. ( κατηργήθημεν, made of no effect.)

See how once again he spares the flesh and the Law. He does not say that the Law was made of no effect or that the flesh was made of no effect, but that we were made of no effect—that is, we were delivered. And how were we delivered? By the old man, who was held down by sin, being dead and buried. This is what he presents in the words "being dead to that wherein we were held." It is as if he said the chain by which we were held down was deadened and broken through, so that what held us down—namely sin—no longer holds us down. But do not fall back or grow listless. You have been freed in order to be servants again, though not in the same way, but in newness of spirit and not in the oldness of the letter. What does he mean by this? It is necessary to explain it here so that when we come to the passage, we will not be confused by it. When Adam sinned, his body became liable to death and sufferings and experienced many physical losses, and the horse became less active and less obedient. But when Christ came, He made it more nimble for us through baptism, rousing it with the wing of the Spirit. For this reason, the marks for the race that those of old had to run are not the same as ours. The race was not as easy then as it is now. This is why He wants them to be clear not only from murder, as He did for those of old, but also from anger; He commands them to keep clear not only of adultery but even of the unchaste look, and to be free not only from false swearing but even from true swearing. And He orders them to love their enemies as well as their friends. In all other duties, He gives us a longer ground to run over, and if we obey, He threatens us with hell, thus showing that these things are not matters of free-will offering for the combatants, as celibacy and poverty are, but are absolutely binding upon us to fulfill. They belong to necessary and urgent requirements, and the person who does not do them is to be punished to the utmost. This is why He said, "Unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven." But whoever does not see the kingdom will certainly fall into hell. For this reason Paul also says, "Sin shall not have dominion over you, because you are not under the Law but under grace." And here again, "that you should serve in newness of spirit and not in the oldness of the letter." For it is not the letter that condemns—that is, the old Law—but the Spirit that helps. For this reason, among the ancients, if any were found practicing virginity, it was quite astonishing. But now the practice is scattered over every part of the world. And death, which in those times a few men despised with difficulty, is now despised by countless hosts of martyrs in villages and cities, consisting not only of men but even of women. Next, having finished with this, he again addresses an objection that is arising, and as he addresses it, he gives confirmation to his own point. He does not introduce the solution as his main argument but by way of opposing this objection, so that by the necessity of meeting it, he may get an opportunity to say what he wishes and make his accusation less unpleasant. Having said "in the newness of the Spirit and not in the oldness of the letter," he proceeds.

See how he again in this place spares the flesh and the Law. For he does not say that the Law was made of no effect, or that the flesh was made of no effect, but that we were made of no effect (i.e., were delivered). And how were we delivered? Why by the old man, who was held down by sin, being dead and buried. For this is what he sets forth in the words, being dead to that, wherein we were held. As if he had said, the chain by which we were held down was deadened and broken through, so that that which held down, namely sin, held down no more. But do not fall back or grow listless. For you have been freed with a view to being servants again, though not in the same way, but in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter. Now what does he mean here? For it is necessary to disclose it here, that when we come upon the passage, we may not be perplexed with it. When then Adam sinned (he means), and his body became liable to death and sufferings, it received also many physical losses, and the horse became less active and less obedient. But Christ, when He came, made it more nimble for us through baptism, rousing it with the wing of the Spirit. And for this reason the marks for the race, which they of old time had to run, are not the same as ours. Since then the race was not so easy as it is now. For this reason, He desires them to be clear not from murder only, as He did them of old time, but from anger also; nor is it adultery only that He bids them keep clear of, but even the unchaste look; and to be exempt not from false swearing only, but even from true. Matthew 5:21-33 And with their friends He orders them to love their enemies also. And in all other duties, He gives us a longer ground to run over, and if we do but obey, threatens us with hell, so showing that the things in question are not matters of free-will offering for the combatants, as celibacy and poverty are, but are binding upon us absolutely to fulfil. For they belong to necessary and urgent requisites, and the man who does not do them is to be punished to the utmost. This is why He said, Unless your righteousness exceeds the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, you shall in no case enter into the kingdom of heaven. Matthew 5:20 But he that does not see the kingdom, shall certainly fall into hell. For this cause Paul too says, Sin shall not have dominion over you, because you are not under the Law, but under grace. And here again, that you should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter. For it is not the letter that condemns, that is the old Law, but the Spirit that helps. And for this reason among the ancients, if any were found practising virginity, it was quite astonishing. But now the thing is scattered over every part of the world. And death in those times some few men did with difficulty despise, but now in villages and cities there are hosts of martyrs without number, consisting not of men only, but even of women. And next having done with this, he again meets an objection which is rising, and as he meets it, gives confirmation to his own object. And so he does not introduce the solution of it as main argument, but by way of opposing this; that by the exigency of meeting it, he may get a plea for saying what he wishes, and make his accusation not so unpalatable. Having then said, in the newness of the Spirit, and not in the oldness of the letter, he proceeds.

What then? Is the Law sin? Certainly not.

Ver. 7. What then? Is the Law sin? God forbid.

Even before this, Paul had been saying that "the motions of sins, which were by the Law did work in our members" (Romans 7:5), and "sin shall have no dominion over you, for you are not under the Law" (Romans 6:14). And that "where no law is, there is no transgression" (Romans 4:15), and "but the Law came in, that the offense might abound" (Romans 5:20), and "the Law works wrath" (Romans 4:15). Now since all these statements seem to bring the Law into disrepute, Paul raises an objection in order to correct the suspicion arising from them, and says, "What then, is the Law sin? God forbid." Before offering his proof, he uses this strong denial to win over the hearer and to calm anyone who was troubled by it. For when someone heard this and felt assured of the speaker's good intentions, he would join with him in investigating the apparent difficulty and would not be suspicious of him. This is why Paul has phrased the objection as including the other person with him. He does not say, "What am I to say?" but rather "What shall we say then?" It is as though a deliberation and judgment were before them, and a general meeting had been called together, and the objection came forward not from Paul himself but in the course of discussion and from the real circumstances of the case. For that the letter kills—no one will deny this, Paul means—or that the Spirit gives life (2 Corinthians 3:6)—this too is plain, and nobody will dispute it. If then these are confessedly truths, what are we to say about the Law? That it is sin? God forbid. Explain the difficulty then. Do you see how Paul treats the opponent as present, and having taken on the role of the teacher, he comes to the explanation of it? Now what is this explanation? "Sin," he says, "the Law is not. Nay, I had not known sin, but by the Law." Notice the reach of his wisdom! What the Law is not, he has set down by way of objection, so that by removing this and thereby pleasing the Jew, he may persuade him to accept the lesser alternative. And what is this? Why, "that I had not known sin, but by the Law. For I had not known lust, except the Law had said, You shall not covet."

Even before this he had been saying, that the motions of sins, which were by the Law did work in our members Romans 7:5: and, sin shall have no dominion over you, for you are not under the Law. Romans 6:14 And that where no law is, there is no transgression. Romans 4:15 And, but the Law came in, that the offense might abound Romans 5:20; and, the Law works wrath. Romans 4:15 Now as all these things seem to bring the Law into disrepute, in order to correct the suspicion arising from them, he supposes also an objection, and says, What then, is the Law sin? God forbid. Before the proof he uses this adjuration to conciliate the hearer, and by way of soothing any who was troubled at it. For so, when he had heard this, and felt assured of the speaker's disposition, he would join with him in investigating the seeming perplexity, and feel no suspicions of him. Wherefore he has put the objection, associating the other with him. Hence, he does not say, What am I to say? But What shall we say then? As though a deliberation and a judgment were before them, and a general meeting called together, and the objection came forward not of himself, but in the course of discussion, and from real circumstances of the case. For that the letter kills, he means, no one will deny, or that the Spirit gives life 2 Corinthians 3:6; this is plain too, and nobody will dispute it. If then these are confessedly truths, what are we to say about the Law? That it is sin? God forbid. Explain the difficulty then. Do you see how he supposes the opponent to be present, and having assumed the dignity of the teacher, he comes to the explaining of it. Now what is this? Sin, he says, the Law is not. Nay, I had not known sin, but by the Law. Notice the reach of his wisdom! What the Law is not, he has set down by way of objection, so that by removing this, and thereby doing the Jew a pleasure, he may persuade him to accept the less alternative. And what is this? Why that I had not known sin, but by the Law. For I had not known lust, except the Law had said, You shall not covet.

Do you see how step by step he shows that the Law is not only an accuser of sin but to some extent its producer? Yet he proves that this happened not from any fault of the Law itself, but from the fault of the disobedient Jews. For he has taken great care to silence the Manichees who accuse the Law. So after saying, "Nay, I had not known sin, but by the Law," and "I had not known lust, except the Law had said, You shall not covet," he adds,

Do you observe, how by degrees he shows it to be not an accuser of sin only, but in a measure its producer? Yet not from any fault of its own, but from that of the froward Jews, he proves it was, that this happened. For he has taken good heed to stop the mouths of the Manichees, that accuse the Law; and so after saying, Nay, I had not known sin, but by the Law; and, I had not known lust, except the Law had said, You shall not covet; he adds,

But sin, taking occasion by the commandment, worked in me all manner of concupiscence.

Ver. 8. But sin, taking occasion by the commandment, wrought in me all manner of concupiscence.

Do you see how he has cleared the Law of all blame? For he says that sin took the opportunity provided by the commandment—not the Law itself—to increase concupiscence, and the opposite of the Law's intention was brought about. This happened because of weakness, not because of any badness in the Law. For when we desire something and then are prevented from having it, the flame of desire only increases. Now this did not come from the Law, for the Law on its own tried to keep us away from it. Rather, sin—that is, your own listlessness and bad disposition—used what was good for the opposite purpose. But this is no fault of the physician, but of the patient who applies the medicine wrongly. For the reason the Law was given was not to inflame concupiscence but to extinguish it, though the opposite resulted from it. Yet the blame does not attach to the Law but to us. If a person had a fever and wanted to drink something cold when it was not good for him, and someone refused to let him have his fill of it and so increased his craving for this harmful pleasure, that person could not deservedly be blamed. For the physician's job is simply to forbid it, but restraining himself is the patient's responsibility. And what if sin did take occasion from the Law? Surely there are many bad people who grow worse in their own wickedness through good precepts. For this was the way the devil ruined Judas, by plunging him into avarice and making him steal what belonged to the poor. However, it was not being entrusted with the money bag that brought this about, but the wickedness of his own spirit. And Eve, by bringing Adam to eat from the tree, threw him out of Paradise. But neither in that case was the tree the cause, even if the occasion took place through it. But if Paul treats the discussion about the Law with some vehemence, do not be surprised. For Paul is standing against the present emergency and does not allow his language to give any opening even to those who suspected otherwise, but takes great pains to make his present statement correct. Do not then judge what he is now going on to say by itself, but set beside it the purpose that leads him to speak of these things, and consider the madness of the Jews and their vigorous spirit of contention. Because he earnestly desires to do away with this, he seems to speak forcefully against the Law, not to find fault with it, but to weaken their vigor. For if it is any reproach to the Law that sin takes occasion by it, this will be found to be the case in the New Testament also. For in the New Testament there are thousands of laws, and about many more important matters. And one may see the same thing happen there also, not only with regard to covetous lust, as in Romans 7:7, but to all wickedness generally. For Christ says, "If I had not come and spoken to them, they would not have sin" (John 15:22). Here then sin finds a foothold in this fact, and so the greater punishment follows. And again when Paul discusses grace, he says, "Of how much worse punishment do you suppose he will be counted worthy who has trodden under foot the Son of God" (Hebrews 10:29). Has not then the worse punishment its origin from this, from the greater benefit? And the reason Paul says the Greeks were without excuse was because, being honored with the gift of reason and having gained knowledge of the beauty of creation and having been placed in a fair way to be led by it to the Creator, they did not use the wisdom of God as they should have. Do you see that for the wicked in all cases, occasions of greater punishment result from good things? But we shall not on this account accuse the benefits of God, but rather admire them even more on this account. But we shall throw the blame on the spirit of those who abuse the blessings for the opposite purpose. Let this then be our approach with regard to the Law also. But this is easy and feasible—the other is what presents a difficulty. How is it that Paul says "I would not have known lust except the Law had said, 'You shall not covet'"? Now if man had not known lust before he received the Law, what was the reason for the flood or the burning of Sodom? What does he mean then? He means vehement lust, and this is why he did not say simply "lust" but "all manner of concupiscence," indicating by that its vehemence. And what, it may be said, is the good of the Law if it adds to the disorder? None, but much mischief even. Yet the charge is not against the Law but against the listlessness of those who received it. For sin worked it, though by means of the Law. But this was not the purpose of the Law; no, the very opposite. Sin then became stronger, he says, and violent. But this again is no charge against the Law but against their obstinacy. For without the Law, sin is dead. That is, it was not so clearly identifiable. For even those before the Law knew that they had sinned, but they came to a more exact knowledge of it after the giving of the Law. And for this reason they were liable to a greater accusation, since it was not the same thing to have nature to accuse them and, besides nature, the Law, which told them distinctly every charge.

Do you see how he has cleared it of all blame? For sin, he says, taking occasion by the commandment, it was, and not the Law, that increased the concupiscence, and the reverse of the Law's intent was brought about. This came of weakness, and not of any badness. For when we desire a thing, and then are hindered of it, the flame of the desire is but increased. Now this came not of the Law; for it hindered us (3 manuscripts endeavored) of itself to keep us off from it; but sin, that is, your own listlessness and bad disposition, used what was good for the reverse. But this is no fault in the physician, but in the patient who applies the medicine wrongly. For the reason of the Law being given was, not to inflame concupiscence, but to extinguish it, though the reverse came of it. Yet the blame attaches not to it, but to us. Since if a person had a fever, and wanted to take cold drink when it was not good for him, and one were not to let him take his fill of it, and so increase his lust after this ruinous pleasure, one could not deservedly be found fault with. For the physician's business is simply prohibiting it, but the restraining himself is the patient's. And what if sin did take occasion from it? Surely there are many bad men who by good precepts grow in their own wickedness. For this was the way in which the devil ruined Judas, by plunging him into avarice, and making him steal what belonged to the poor. However it was not the being entrusted with the bag that brought this to pass, but the wickedness of his own spirit. And Eve, by bringing Adam to eat from the tree, threw him out of Paradise. But neither in that case was the tree the cause, even if it was through it that the occasion took place. But if he treats the discussion about the Law with somewhat of vehemence, do not feel surprise. For Paul is making a stand against the present exigency, and suffers not his language to give a handle even to those that suspected otherwise, but takes great pains to make the present statement correct. Do not then sift what he is now going on to say (4 manuscripts here saying) by itself, but put beside it the purpose by which he is led on to speak of these things, and reckon for the madness of the Jews, and their vigorous spirit of contention, which as he desires earnestly to do away with, he seems to bear violently ( πολὺς πνεἵν) against the Law, not to find fault with it, but to unnerve their vigor. For if it is any reproach to the Law that sin takes occasion by it, this will be found to be the case in the New Testament also. For in the New Testament there are thousands of laws, and about many more ( far more, Field) important matters. And one may see the same come to pass there also, not with regard to covetousness lust, as Romans 7:7 only, but to all wickedness generally. For He says, if I had not come and spoken unto them, they had not had sin, John 15:22 Here then sin finds a footing in this fact, and so the greater punishment. And again when Paul discourses about grace, he says, Of how much sorer punishment, suppose ye, shall he be counted worthy, who has trodden under foot the Son of God. Hebrews 10:29 Has not then the worse punishment its origin from hence, from the greater benefit? And the reason why he says the Greeks were without excuse was, because being honored with the gift of reason, and having gotten a knowledge of the beauty of the creation, and having been placed in a fair way for being led by it to the Creator, they did not so use the wisdom of God, as it was their duty. Do you see that to the wicked in all cases occasions of greater punishment result from good things? But we shall not in this accuse the benefits of God, but rather upon this even admire them the more: but we shall throw the blame on the spirit of those who abuse the blessings to contrary purpose. Let this then be our line with regard to the Law also. But this is easy and feasible — the other is what is a difficulty. How is it that he says I had not known lust except the Law had said, You shall not covet? Now if man had not known lust, before he received the Law, what was the reason for the flood, or the burning of Sodom? What does he mean then? He means vehement lust: and this is why he did not say, lust, but all manner of concupiscence, intimating, in that, its vehemency. And what, it will be said, is the good of the Law, if it adds to the disorder? None; but much mischief even. Yet the charge is not against the Law, but the listlessness of those who received it. For sin wrought it, though by the Law. But this was not the purpose of the Law, nay, the very opposite, Sin then became stronger, he says, and violent. But this again is no charge against the Law but against their obstinacy. For without the Law sin is dead. That is, was not so ascertainable. For even those before the Law knew that they had sinned, but they came to a more exact knowledge of it after the giving of the Law. And for this reason they were liable to a greater accusation: since it was not the same thing to have nature to accuse them, and besides nature the Law, which told them distinctly every charge.

I was alive without the Law once.

Ver. 9. For I was alive without the Law once.

When was that, exactly? Before Moses. Notice how he aims to demonstrate that the Law, both by what it did and what it did not do, weighed down human nature. For when I was alive without the Law, he means, I was not condemned as severely.

When, pray, was that? Before Moses. See how he sets himself to show that it, both by the things it did, and the things it did not do, weighed down human nature. For when I was alive without the Law, he means, I was not so much condemned.

But when the commandment came, sin came back to life, and I died.

But when the commandment came, sin revived, and I died.

This does seem to accuse the Law. But if someone examines it carefully, it will be seen as actually a commendation of it. For the Law did not create sin that did not exist before, but simply revealed what had gone unnoticed. And this is actually praise of the Law, since people had been sinning without realizing it before the Law came. When the Law arrived, even if they gained nothing else from it, they at least clearly learned this one thing: that they had been sinning. And this is no small matter when it comes to escaping from wickedness. Now if they did not escape, this has nothing to do with the Law, which designed everything toward this goal. Rather, the accusation belongs entirely to their disposition, which was perverse beyond all expectation. For what happened was not the natural result—being harmed by beneficial things. This is why he says, "And the commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death." He does not say it was made or it produced death, but "was found," thus explaining the strange and unusual kind of contradiction and placing all the blame on their own heads. For if, he says, you want to know its purpose, it led to life and was given with this intention. But if death resulted from it, the fault lies with those who received the commandment, not with the commandment itself, which was leading them to life. And he has shed further light on this point through what follows.

This seems indeed to be an accusing of theLaw. But if any one will look closely at it, it will be seen to be even an encomium of it. For it did not give existence to sin that before was not, but only pointed out what had escaped notice. And this is even a praise of the Law, if at least before it they had been sinning without perceiving it. But when this came, if they gained nothing besides from it, at all events this they were distinctly made acquainted with, the fact that they had been sinning. And this is no small point, with a view to getting free from wickedness. Now if they did not get free, this has nothing to do with the Law; which framed everything with a view to this end, but the accusation lies wholly against their spirit, which was perverse beyond all supposition. For what took place was not the natural thing — their being injured by things profitable. And this is why he says And the commandment, which was ordained to life, I found to be unto death. He does not say, it was made, or it brought forth death, but was found, so explaining the novel and unusual kind of discrepancy, and making the whole fall upon their own pate. For if, he says, you would know the aim of it, it led to life, and was given with this view. But if death was the issue of this, the fault is with them that received the commandment, and not of this, which was leading them to life. And this is a point on which he has thrown fresh light by what follows.

Sin, finding its opportunity through the commandment, deceived me and through it killed me.

Ver. 11. For sin taking occasion by the commandment deceived me, and by it slew me.

You can see how he consistently focuses on sin throughout, and completely clears the Law of any accusation. And so he continues as follows.

You observe how he everywhere keeps to sin, and entirely clears the Law of accusation. And so he proceeds as follows.

Verse 12. Therefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good.

Ver. 12. Wherefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good.

But if you are interested, we will present the arguments of those who misinterpret these statements. Doing so will make our own position clearer. Some say that Paul is not speaking here about the Law of Moses, but rather about the law of nature; others say he means the commandment given in Paradise. Yet Paul's purpose throughout is to abolish this Law, and he has no dispute with those other laws. This makes perfect sense, because it was fear and dread of this Law that made the Jews stubbornly resist grace. Moreover, it does not appear that Paul has ever called the commandment in Paradise a Law at all, nor has any other writer. To make this clearer from what Paul actually said, let us trace his argument, backing up a little. After speaking to them about strict conduct, he says, "Do you not know, brethren, how the Law has dominion over a man as long as he lives? Therefore you have become dead to the Law." Now if these things refer to the natural law, we would be without the natural law. And if that were true, we would be more senseless than the unreasoning animals. But this is certainly not the case. As for the law in Paradise, there is no need to argue about it, since that would be taking on unnecessary work by fighting against ideas people have already decided on. In what sense, then, does Paul say, "I would not have known sin except through the Law"? He is speaking not of complete ignorance, but of more accurate knowledge. For if he were speaking of the law of nature, how would what follows make sense? For he says, "I was once alive apart from the Law." Yet neither Adam nor anyone else can be shown ever to have lived without the law of nature. For as soon as God formed him, He placed that law of nature within him, making it dwell with him as a protection for the whole human kind (physis). Besides this, Paul does not appear anywhere to have called the law of nature a commandment. But this he calls both a commandment, and one that is just and holy, as well as a spiritual law. Yet the law of nature was not given to us by the Spirit. For barbarians, as well as Greeks and other peoples, have this law. From this it is clear that Paul is speaking of the Mosaic Law both above and afterward, and in all these passages. For this reason he also calls it holy, saying, "Therefore the Law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good." For even though the Jews have been unclean since the Law, and unjust and greedy, this does not destroy the virtue of the Law, just as their unbelief does not nullify the faithfulness of God. So from all these things it is plain that Paul is speaking here about the Law of Moses.

But, if you be so minded, we will bring before you the language of those who wrest these declarations. For this will make our own statements clearer. For there are some that say, that he is not here saying what he does of the Law of Moses, but some take it of the law of nature; some, of the commandment given in Paradise. Yet surely Paul's object everywhere is to annul this Law, but he has not any question with those. And with much reason; for it was through a fear and a horror of this that the Jews obstinately opposed grace. But it does not appear that he has ever called the commandment in Paradise Law at all; no, nor yet any other writer. Now to make this plainer from what he has really said, let us follow out his words, retracing the argument a little. Having then spoken to them about strictness of conversation, he goes on to say, Do you not know, brethren, how that the Law has dominion over a man as long as he lives? Wherefore you have become dead to the Law. Therefore if these things are said about the natural law, we are found to be without the natural law. And if this be true, we are more senseless than the creatures which are without reason. Yet this is not so, certainly. For with regard to the law in Paradise, there is no need to be contentious, lest we should be taking up a superfluous trouble, by entering the lists against things men have made up their minds upon. In what sense then does he say, I should not have known sin but by the Law? He is speaking, not of absolute want of knowledge, but of the more accurate knowledge. For if this were said of the law of nature, how would what follows suit? For I was alive, he says, without the Law once. Now neither Adam, nor any body else, can be shown ever to have lived without the law of nature. For as soon as God formed him, He put into him that law of nature, making it to dwell by him as a security to the whole kind (Gr. Nature, see p. 365). And besides this, it does not appear that he has anywhere called the law of nature a commandment. But this he calls as well a commandment, and that just and holy, as a spiritual law. But the law of nature was not given to us by the Spirit. For barbarians, as well as Greeks and other men, have this law. Hence it is plain, that it is the Mosaic Law that he is speaking of above, as well as afterwards, and in all the passages. For this cause also he calls it holy, saying, Wherefore the Law is holy, and the commandment holy, and just, and good. For even though the Jews have been unclean since the Law, and unjust and covetous, this does not destroy the virtue of the Law, even as their unbelief does not make the faith of God of none effect. So from all these things it is plain, that it is of the Law of Moses that he here speaks.

Was then that which is good made death unto me? Absolutely not! Rather, it was sin, so that it might appear as sin.

Ver. 13. Was then that which is good made death unto me? God forbid. But sin that it might appear sin. (4 manuscripts om. ἡ.)

That is, to show what a great evil sin is—a lazy will, a tendency toward what is worse, the actual act itself (3 manuscripts omit this clause), and a distorted judgment. This is the cause of all evils. But Paul magnifies it by pointing out the surpassing grace of Christ and teaching them what a great evil He freed the human race from—an evil that had actually grown worse through the very remedies meant to cure it and was increased by the things meant to prevent it. This is why he continues: That sin, by the commandment, might become exceeding sinful. Do you see how these themes are woven together everywhere? By the very means he uses to accuse sin, he again shows the excellence of the Law. It is no small achievement to show what an evil sin is, to unfold its entire poison, and to bring it into view. This is what he demonstrates by saying that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful—that is, to make clear what an evil sin is, what a destructive thing it is. And this is what was revealed by the commandment. In this way he also shows that grace is superior to the Law—superior to, not in conflict with, the Law. Do not focus on the fact that those who received the Law were made worse by it; instead, consider this: the Law not only had no intention of drawing out wickedness to greater lengths, but actually aimed seriously at cutting down what already existed. But if the Law lacked the strength to do this, give it a crown for its intention, but worship more highly the power of Christ, which abolished, cut away, and pulled up by the roots an evil so complex and so difficult to overthrow. But when you hear me speak of sin, do not think of it as a substantial power, but as evil action that comes upon people and leaves them continually—something that has no existence before it happens and vanishes again after it occurs. This, then, was why the Law was given. No law is ever given to put an end to things that are natural, but rather to correct behavior that is deliberately wicked. Even secular lawgivers are aware of this, as is all humanity in general. They seek to correct only the evils that come from wickedness, and they do not attempt to eradicate things that are assigned to us along with our nature, since this they cannot do. For things that are natural remain unchangeable, as we have told you frequently in other discussions as well.

That is, that it might be shown what great evil sin is, namely, a listless will, an inclinableness to the worse side, the actual doing (3 manuscripts om. this clause), and the perverted judgment. For this is the cause of all the evils; but he amplifies it by pointing out the exceeding grace of Christ, and teaching them what an evil He freed the human race from, which, by the medicines used to cure it, had become worse, and was increased by the preventives. Wherefore he goes on to say: That sin, by the commandment, might become exceeding sinful. Do you see how these things are woven together everywhere? By the very means he uses to accuse sin, he again shows the excellency of the Law. Neither is it a small point which he has gained by showing what an evil sin is, and unfolding the whole of its poison, and bringing it to view. For this is what he shows, by saying, that sin by the commandment might become exceeding sinful. That is, that it may be made clear what an evil sin is, what a ruinous thing. And this is what was shown by the commandment. Hereby he also shows the preëminence of grace above the Law, the preëminence above, not the conflict with, the Law. For do not look to this fact, that those who received it were the worse for it; but consider the other, that the Law had not only no design of drawing wickedness out to greater lengths, but even seriously aimed at hewing down what already existed. But if it had no strength, give to it indeed a crown for its intention, but adore more highly the power of Christ, which abolished, cut away: and plucked up the very roots an evil so manifold and so hard to be overthrown. But when you hear me speak of sin, do not think of it as a substantial power, but evil doing, as it comes upon men and goes from them continually, and which, before it takes place, has no being, and when it has taken place, vanishes again. This then was why the Law was given. Now no law is ever given to put an end to things natural, but in order to correct a way of acting purposely wicked. And this the lawgivers that are without too are aware of, and all mankind in general. For it is the evils from viciousness alone that they are for setting right, and they do not undertake to extirpate those allotted us along with our nature; since this they cannot do. For things natural remain unalterable (Arist. Eth. b. 2, c. 1), as we have told you frequently in other discourses also.

So let us leave these debates and turn our attention back to moral instruction. Actually, this second part is related to those debates. For if we drive out wickedness, we will also bring in virtue, and by doing this we will clearly demonstrate that wickedness is not a natural evil. We will be able to easily silence those who ask about the origin of evil, not only through words but also through actions, since we share the same physis with them but are freed from their wickedness. Let us not focus on how difficult virtue is, but on the possibility of achieving it. If we are serious about it, virtue will become both easy and pleasant for us. But if you tell me about the pleasure of vice, tell me also about its outcome. For it ends in death, just as virtue leads us to life. Or, if you prefer, let us examine both of them even before their end. We will see that vice brings much pain with it, and virtue brings great pleasure. For what is more painful than a bad conscience? Or what is more pleasing than a good hope? Nothing cuts us so deeply or weighs so heavily on us as the expectation of evil, and nothing lifts us up and gives us wings like a good conscience. We can learn this from what we observe around us. Those who are in prison and awaiting sentencing, even if they enjoy luxuries beyond measure, live a more miserable life than beggars on the streets who have nothing troubling their consciences. The expectation of a terrible end prevents them from perceiving whatever pleasures they have at hand. And why speak only of prisoners? Even those living outside prison who have good fortune but carry a bad conscience are in a worse state than craftsmen who work for their bread and spend the whole day in labor. This is also why we say how miserable gladiators are, even though we see them in taverns, drunk, indulgent, and feasting, and we call them the most miserable of men, because the terrible fate they must expect far outweighs any pleasure. Now if such a life seems pleasant to them, remember what I keep telling you: it is no great wonder that someone living in vice does not flee from the misery and pain that vice brings. For see how something so detestable can seem delightful to those who practice it. Yet we do not say on this account that they are happy; indeed, this is the very reason we think them pitiable, because they have no understanding of the evils they are caught up in. What would you say of adulterers, who for a little pleasure endure at once a disgraceful slavery, loss of money, perpetual fear, and truly the very life of Cain, or rather one much worse than his? They are filled with fears for the present and trembling for the future, suspecting friend and foe alike, both those who know about it and those who do not. Even when they go to sleep they are not free from this struggle, as their bad conscience creates dreams full of various terrors, horrifying them in this way. The chaste man is completely different, for he lives the present life unshackled and in complete freedom. Weigh the little pleasure against the many waves of these terrors, and the brief effort of self-control against the calm of an entire life, and you will find that the latter has more pleasantness than the former. As for the man bent on robbery and seizing other people's goods, tell me if he does not undergo countless pains in running about, flattering slaves, freedmen, and doorkeepers, intimidating and threatening, acting shamelessly, watching, trembling, in agony, suspecting everything. The man who despises wealth is completely different, for he also enjoys abundant pleasure and lives without fear in perfect security. If anyone were to examine the other instances of vice, they would find much trouble and many dangers. What is more important is that in the case of virtue, the difficulties come first and the pleasant part comes afterward, so even the trouble is lightened in this way. But in the case of vice, the reverse is true. After the pleasure come the pains and punishments, so that these even destroy the pleasure. For just as someone who awaits the crown perceives nothing of present annoyance, so someone who must expect punishments after pleasures has no power to gather unmixed gladness, since fear throws everything into confusion. Or rather, if anyone were to examine the matter carefully, even before the punishment that follows these things, they would find that even at the very moment when vice is boldly pursued, much pain is felt. If you wish, let us examine this in the case of those who plunder other people's goods or those who in any way accumulate money. Setting aside the fears, dangers, trembling, agony, care, and all these things, let us suppose the case of a man who has gotten rich without any trouble and feels secure about maintaining his present fortune (which is impossible, but let us assume it for the sake of argument). What kind of pleasure is he to gather from having so much? On the contrary, this very thing will not let him be happy. For as long as he desires other things besides what he has, he is still on the rack. Because desire gives pleasure when it reaches satisfaction. If we are thirsty, for instance, we feel refreshed when we have drunk as much as we wish; but as long as we remain thirsty, even if we were to drain all the fountains in the world, our torment would only grow greater; even if we were to drink up ten thousand rivers, our state of punishment would be more distressing. In the same way, if you were to receive the goods of the whole world and still covet more, you would only increase your punishment the more things you tasted. Do not think that by gathering a great sum you will have any pleasure, but rather by refusing to be rich. If you covet wealth you will always be under the scourge. For this is a kind of love that never reaches its goal; the longer the journey you have traveled, the further you remain from the end.

And so let us leave these contests, and again practise ourselves in exhortation. Or rather, this last part belongs to those contests. For if we cast out wickedness, we should bring virtue in also: and by these means we shall clearly teach that wickedness is no natural evil, and shall be able easily to stop the mouths of them that enquire for the origin of evil, not by means of words only, but of actions also, since we share the same nature with them, but are freed from their wickedness. For let us not be looking at the laboriousness of virtue, but at the possibility of succeeding in it. But if we be in earnest, it will be at once light and palatable to us. But if you tell me of the pleasure of vice, tell out its end too. For it issues in death, even as virtue leads us to life. Or if you think fit let us rather scrutinize them both even before their end; for we shall see that vice has a great deal of pain attached to it, and virtue great pleasure. For what pray is so painful as a bad conscience? Or what more pleasing than a good hope? For there is nothing, assuredly there is nothing, which is used to cut us so deep, and press so hard on us, as the expectation of evil: nothing that so keeps us up, and all but gives us wings, as a good conscience. And this we may get a knowledge of even by what takes place before our eyes. For they that dwell in a prison, and are in expectation of sentence against them, let them have the enjoyment of luxury repeated beyond count, live a more afflicting life than those that go a begging by the by-roads, yet with nothing upon their consciences to trouble them. For the expectation of a dreadful end will not let them perceive those pleasures which they have in their hands. And why do I speak of prisoners? Why, as for those that are living out of prison, and have a good fortune, yet have a bad conscience about them, handicraftsmen that work for their bread, and spend the whole day amid their labor, are in a far better plight than they. And for this reason too we say, How miserable the gladiators are (though seeing them as we do in taverns, drunken, luxurious, gormandizing), and call them the most miserable of men, because the calamity of the end which they must expect is too great to admit of comparison with that pleasure. Now if to them a life of this sort seems to be pleasing, remember what I am continually telling you, that it is no such marvel that a man who lives in vice should not flee from the misery and pain of vice. For see how a thing so detestable as that, yet seems to be delectable to those who practice it. Yet we do not on this account say, how happy they are, for this is just the very reason why we think them pitiable, because they have no notion of the evils they are among. And what would you say of adulterers, who for a little pleasure undergo at once a disgraceful slavery, and a loss of money, and a perpetual fear (Hor. Sat. II. vii. 58-67), and in fact the very life of a Cain, or rather one that is even much worse than his; filled with fears for the present, and trembling for the future, and suspecting alike friend and foe, and those that know about it, and those that know nothing? Neither when they go to sleep are they quit of this struggle, their bad conscience shaping out for them dreams that abound with sundry terrors, and in this way horrifying them. Far otherwise is the chaste man, seeing he passes the present life unshackled and at full liberty. Weigh then against the little pleasure, the sundry fluctuations of these terrors, and with the short labor of continency, the calm of an entire life; and you will find the latter has more of pleasantness than the former. But as for the man that is set upon plundering and laying hands upon other men's goods, tell me if he has not to undergo countless pains in the way of running about, fawning upon slaves, freemen, doorkeepers; alarming and threatening, acting shamelessly, watching, trembling, in agony, suspecting everything. Far otherwise is the man that holds riches in contempt, for he too enjoys pleasure in abundance, and lives with no fear, and in perfect security. And if any one were to go through the other instances of vice, he would find much trouble, and many rocks. But what is of greater importance is, that in the case of virtue the difficulties come first, and the pleasant part afterwards, so the trouble is even thus alleviated. But in the case of vice, the reverse. After the pleasure, the pains and the punishments, so that by these besides the pleasure is done away. For as he who waits for the crown, perceives nothing of present annoyance, so he that has to expect the punishments after the pleasures has no power of gathering in a gladness that is unalloyed, since the fear puts everything in confusion. Or rather if any one were to scrutinize the thing with care, even before the punishment which follows upon these things, he would find that even at the very moment when vice is boldly entered upon, a great deal of pain is felt. And, if you think fit, let us just examine this in the case of those who plunder other men's goods. Or those who in any way get together money, and setting aside the fears, and dangers, and trembling, and agony, and care, and all these things, let us suppose the case of a man, who has got rich without any annoyance, and feels sure about maintaining his present fortune (which he has no means of doing, still for all that let it be assumed for argument's sake). What sort of pleasure then is he to gather in from having so much about him? On the contrary, it is just this very thing that will not let him be glad-hearted. For as long as ever he desires other things besides, he is still upon the rack. Because desire gives pleasure at the time it has come to a stand. If thirsty, for instance, we feel refreshed, when we have drunk as much as we wish; but so long as we keep thirsty, even if we were to have exhausted all the fountains in the world, our torment were but growing greater; even if we were to drink up ten thousand rivers, our state of punishment were more distressing. And thou also, if you were to receive the goods of the whole world, and still to covet, would make your punishment the greater, the more things you had tasted of. Fancy not then, that from having gathered a great sum together you shall have anything of pleasure, but rather by declining to be rich. But if you covet to be rich you will be always under the scourge. For this is a kind of love that does not reach its aim; and the longer journey you have gone, the further off you keep from the end.

Isn't this absurd, then—a derangement, an extreme madness? Let us forsake this first of evils, or rather let us not even touch this covetousness at all. Yet if we have touched it, let us spring away from its first motions (προοιμίων). For this is the advice the writer of Proverbs gives us when he speaks about the harlot: Spring away, he says, tarry not, neither go near the door of her house. This same thing I would say to you about the love of money. For if by entering gradually you fall into this ocean of madness, you will not be able to get up out of it with ease, and as if you were in whirlpools, struggle as often as you may, it will not be easy for you to get clear. So after falling into this far worse abyss of covetousness, you will destroy yourself with all that belongs to you. And so my advice is that we be on our watch against the beginning and avoid little evils, for the great ones are generated by these. For he who gets into a habit of saying at every sin, "This matters nothing!" will little by little ruin himself entirely. At any rate it is this which has introduced vice, which has opened the doors to the robber, which has thrown down the walls of cities—this saying at each sin, "This matters nothing!" Thus in the case of the body too, the greatest diseases grow up when trifling ones are made light of. If Esau had not first been a traitor to his birthright, he would not have become unworthy of the blessings. If he had not rendered himself unworthy of the blessings, he would not have had the desire of going on to fratricide. If Cain had not fallen in love with the first place but had left that to God, he would not have had the second place. Again, when he had the second place, if he had listened to the advice he would not have conceived the murder. Again, if after doing the murder he had come to repentance when God called him and had not answered in an irreverent way, he would not have had to suffer the subsequent evils. But if those before the Law did owing to this listlessness come to the very bottom of misery, only consider what is to become of us who are called to a greater contest, unless we take strict heed to ourselves and make speed to quench the sparks of evil deeds before the whole pile is kindled. Take an instance of my meaning. Are you in the habit of false swearing? Do not stop at this only, but away with all swearing, and you will have no further need of trouble. For it is far harder for a man who swears to keep from false swearing than to abstain from swearing altogether. Are you an insulting and abusive person? A striker too? Lay down as a law for yourself not to be angry or brawl in the least, and with the root the fruit also will be gotten rid of. Are you lustful and dissipated? Make it your rule again not even to look at a woman or to go up into the theatre or to trouble yourself with the beauty of other people whom you see about. For it is far easier not even to look at a woman of good figure than after looking and taking in the lust to thrust out the disturbance that comes from it, the struggle being easier in the preliminaries (προοιμίοις). Or rather we have no need of a struggle at all if we do not throw the gates open to the enemy or take in the seeds of evil (κακίας). And this is why Christ chastised the man who looks unchastely upon a woman, that He might free us from greater labor before the adversary became strong, bidding us cast him out of the house while he may be cast out even with ease. For what need is there to have unnecessary trouble and to get entangled with the enemies when without entanglement we may erect the trophy and before the wrestling seize upon the prize? For it is not so great a trouble not to look upon beautiful women as it is while looking to restrain oneself. Or rather the first would be no trouble at all, but immense toil and labor comes on after looking. Since then this trouble is less, or rather there is no labor at all nor trouble but the greater gain, why do we take pains to plunge into an ocean of countless evils? And further, he who does not look upon a woman will overcome such lust not only with greater ease but with a higher purity, as he on the other hand who does look gets free with more trouble and not without a kind of stain—that is, if he does get free at all. For he who does not take a view of the beautiful figure is pure also from the lust that might result. But he who lusts to look, after first laying his reason low and polluting it in countless ways, has then to cast out the stain that came of the lust—that is, if he does cast it out. This then is why Christ, to prevent our suffering in this way, did not prohibit murder only but wrath; not adultery only but an unchaste look even; not perjury only but all swearing whatsoever. Nor does he make the measure of virtue stop here, but after having given these laws He proceeds to a still greater degree. For after keeping us far away from murder and bidding us to be clear of wrath, He bids us be ready even to suffer ill, and not to be prepared to suffer no more than what he who attacks us pleases, but even to go further and to get the better of his utmost madness by the overflowingness of our own Christian spirit (τῆς οἰκείας φιλοσοφίας). For what He says is not, "If a man smite you on your right cheek, bear it nobly and hold your peace," but He adds to this the yielding to him the other too. For He says, "Turn to him the other also." This then is the brilliant victory, to yield him even more than what he wishes and to go beyond the bounds of his evil desire by the profuseness of one's own patient endurance. For in this way you will put a stop to his madness and also receive from the second act again the reward of the first, besides putting a stop to wrath against him. Do you see how in all cases it is we who have it in our power not to suffer ill, and not they who inflict it? Or rather it is not the not suffering ill alone, but even the having benefits done us that we have in our own power. And this is the truest wonder, that we are so far from being injured, if we are right-minded, that we are even benefited, and that too by the very things that we suffer unjustly at the hands of others. Reflect then: has such a one done you an affront? You have the power of making this affront redound to your honor. For if you do an affront in return, you only increase the disgrace. But if you bless him who did you the affront, you will see that all men give you victory and proclaim your praise. Do you see how by the things wherein we are wronged we get good done to us if we are so minded? This one may see happening in the case of money matters, of blows, and the same in everything else. For if we requite them with the opposite, we are but twining a double crown about us, one for the ills we have suffered as well as one for the good we are doing. Whenever then a person comes and tells you that such a one has done you an affront and keeps continually speaking ill of you to everybody, praise the man to those who tell you of him. For thus even if you wish to avenge yourself, you will have the power of inflicting punishment. For those who hear you, be they ever so foolish, will praise you and hate him as fiercer than any brute beast, because he, without being at all wronged, caused you pain, but you, even when suffering wrong, requited him with the opposite. And so you will have it in your power to prove that all that he said was to no purpose. For he who feels the tooth of slander gives by his vexation a proof that he is conscious of the truth of what is said. But he who smiles at it by this very thing acquits himself of all suspicion with those who are present. Consider then how many good things you gather together from the affair. First, you rid yourself of all vexation and trouble. Secondly (rather this should come first), even if you have sins, you put them off, as the Publican did by bearing the Pharisee's accusation meekly. Besides, you will by this practice make your soul heroic, and will enjoy endless praises from all men, and will divest yourself of any suspicion arising from what is said. But even if you are desirous of taking revenge upon the man, this too will follow in full measure, both by God's punishing him for what he has said and before that punishment by your heroic conduct standing to him in the place of a mortal blow. For there is nothing that cuts those who affront us so much to the heart as for

Is not this a paradox then, a derangement, a madness in the extreme? Let us then forsake this first of evils, or rather let us not even touch this covetousness at all. Yet, if we have touched it, let us spring away from its first motions ( προοιμίων). For this is the advice the writer of the Proverbs gives us, when he speaks about the harlot: Spring away, he says, tarry not, neither go thou near to the door of her house Proverbs 5:8: this same thing I would say to you about the love of money. For if by entering gradually you fall into this ocean of madness, you will not be able to get up out of it with ease, and as if you were in whirlpools, struggle as often as ever you may, it will not be easy for you to get clear; so after falling into this far worse abyss of covetousness, you will destroy your own self, with all that belongs to you. Acts 8:20 And so my advice is that we be on our watch against the beginning, and avoid little evils, for the great ones are gendered by these. For he who gets into a way of saying at every sin, This matters nothing! will little by little ruin himself entirely. At all events it is this which has introduced vice; which has opened the doors to the robber (5 manuscripts devil), which has thrown down the walls of cities, this saying at each sin, This matters nothing! Thus in the case of the body too, the greatest of diseases grow up, when trifling ones are made light of. If Esau had not first been a traitor to his birthright, he would not have become unworthy of the blessings. If he had not rendered himself unworthy of the blessings, he would not have had the desire of going on to fratricide. If Cain had not fallen in love with the first place, but had left that to God, he would not have had the second place. Again, when he had the second place, if he had listened to the advice, he would not have travailed with the murder. Again, if after doing the murder he had come to repentance, when God called him, and had not answered in an irreverent way, he would not have had to suffer the subsequent evils. But if those before the Law did owing to this listlessness come to the very bottom of misery, only consider what is to become of us, who are called to a greater contest, unless we take strict heed unto ourselves, and make speed to quench the sparks of evil deeds before the whole pile is kindled. Take an instance of my meaning. Are you in the habit of false swearing? Do not stop at this only, but away with all swearing, and you will have no further need of trouble. For it is far harder for a man that swears to keep from false swearing, than to abstain from swearing altogether. Are you an insulting and abusive person? A striker too? Lay down as a law for yourself not to be angry or brawl in the least, and with the root the fruit also will be gotten rid of. Are you lustful and dissipated? Make it your rule again not even to look at a woman Job 31:1, or to go up into the theatre, or to trouble yourself with the beauty of other people whom you see about. For it is far easier not even to look at a woman of good figure, than after looking and taking in the lust, to thrust out the perturbation that comes thereof, the struggle being easier in the preliminaries ( προοιμίοις). Or rather we have no need of a struggle at all if we do not throw the gates open to the enemy, or take in the seeds of mischief ( κακίας). And this is why Christ chastised the man who looks unchastely upon a woman Matthew 5:28, that He might free us from greater labor, before the adversary became strong, bidding us cast him out of the house while he may be cast out even with ease. For what need to have superfluous trouble, and to get entangled with the enemies, when without entanglement we may erect the trophy, and before the wrestling seize upon the prize? For it is not so great a trouble not to look upon beautiful women, as it is while looking to restrain one's self. Or rather the first would be no trouble at all, but immense toil and labor comes on after looking. Since then this trouble is less (most manuscripts add, to the incontinent), or rather there is no labor at all, nor trouble, but the greater gain, why do we take pains to plunge into an ocean of countless evils? And farther, he who does not look upon a woman, will overcome such lust not only with greater ease, but with a higher purity, as he on the other hand who does look, gets free with more trouble, and not without a kind of stain, that is, if he does get free at all. For he that does not take a view of the beautiful figure, is pure also from the lust that might result. But he who lusts to look, after first laying his reason low, and polluting it in countless ways, has then to cast out the stain that came of the lust, that is, if he do cast it out. This then is why Christ, to prevent our suffering in this way, did not prohibit murder only, but wrath; not adultery only, but an unchaste look even: not perjury only, but all swearing whatsoever. Nor does he make the measure of virtue stop here, but after having given these laws, He proceeds to a still greater degree. For after keeping us far away from murder, and bidding us to be clear of wrath, He bids us be ready even to suffer ill, and not to be prepared to suffer no more than what he who attacks us pleases, but even to go further, and to get the better of his utmost madness by the overflowingness of our own Christian spirit ( τἥς οἱκείας φιγοσοφίας). For what He says is not, If a man smite you on your right cheek, bear it nobly and hold your peace; but He adds to this the yielding to him the other too. For He says, Turn to him the other also. Matthew 5:39 This then is the brilliant victory, to yield him even more than what he wishes, and to go beyond the bounds of his evil desire by the profuseness of one's own patient endurance. For in this way you will put a stop to his madness, and also receive from the second act again the reward of the first, besides putting a stop to wrath against him. See you, how in all cases it is we that have it in our power not to suffer ill, and not they that inflict it? Or rather it is not the not suffering ill alone, but even the having benefits (Sav. conj. παθεἵν εὖ, so 2 manuscripts) done us that we have in our own power. And this is the truest wonder, that we are so far from being injured, if we be right-minded, that we are even benefited, and that too by the very things that we suffer unjustly at the hands of others. Reflect then; has such an one done you an affront? You have the power of making this affront redound to your honor. For if you do an affront in return, you only increase the disgrace. But if you bless him that did you the affront, you will see that all men give you victory, and proclaim your praise. Do you see how by the things wherein we are wronged, we get good done unto us if we be so minded? This one may see happening in the case of money matters, of blows, and the same in everything else. For if we requite them with the opposite, we are but twining a double crown about us, one for the ills we have suffered, as well as one for the good we are doing. Whenever then a person comes and tells you that such an one has done you an affront, and keeps continually speaking ill of you to everybody, praise the man to those who tell you of him. For thus even if you wish to avenge yourself, you will have the power of inflicting punishment. For those who hear you, be they ever so foolish, will praise you, and hate him as fiercer than any brute beast, because he, without being at all wronged, caused you pain, but you, even when suffering wrong, requited him with the opposite. And so you will have it in your power to prove that all that he said was to no purpose. For he who feels the tooth of slander, gives by his vexation a proof that he is conscious of the truth of what is said. But he who smiles at it, by this very thing acquits himself of all suspicion with those who are present. Consider then how many good things you cull together from the affair. First, you rid yourself of all vexation and trouble. Secondly (rather this should come first), even if you have sins, you put them off, as the Publican did by bearing the Pharisee's accusation meekly. Besides, you will by this practice make your soul heroic (Gr. philosophic), and will enjoy endless praises from all men, and will divest yourself of any suspicion arising from what is said. But even if you are desirous of taking revenge upon the man, this too will follow in full measure, both by God's punishing him for what he has said, and before that punishment by your heroic conduct standing to him in the place of a mortal blow. For there is nothing that cuts those who affront us so much to the heart, as for us who are affronted to smile at the affront. As then from behaving with Christian heroism so many honors will accrue to us, so from being little-minded just the opposite will befall us in everything. For we disgrace ourselves, and also seem to those present to be guilty of the things mentioned, and fill our soul with perturbation, and give our enemy pleasure, and provoke God, and add to our former sins. Taking then all this into consideration, let us flee from the abyss of a little mind ( μικροψυχίας), and take refuge in the port of patient endurance ( μακροθυμίας), that here we may at once find rest unto our souls Matthew 11:29, as Christ also set forth, and may attain to the good things to come, by the grace and love toward man, etc.