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ROM. VI. 19.
"I speak after the manner of men because of the infirmity of your
flesh: for as ye have yielded your members (so 4 Mss. Say. 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 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
hath no temptation taken you but such as is common to man" (1 Cot.
x. 13), that is, moderate and small. "For as ye 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, a.d 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.
Ver. 20. "For when ye were the servants of sin, ye were free
from righteousness."
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 ye did absolutely no good thing at
all. For this is, "ye were free from righteousness." That is ye
were not subject to it, but estranged from it wholly. For ye 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 ye 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.
Ver. 21. "What fruit had ye then in those things whereof ye are
now ashamed?"
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 ye 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.
Ver. 22. "For now being made free from sin, and become servants
to God, ye have your fruit unto holiness, and the end everlasting
life."
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 ye served it. For
though the master is far preferable, and the service also has many
advantages, and the rewards too for which ye 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:
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 the blessings, he
has not kept to the same order (taxin, 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.
Chap. vii. ver. 1. "Know ye not, brethren, for I speak to
them that know the Law."
Since then he had said, we are "dead to sin," he here shows that
not sin only, but also the Law, hath no dominion over them. But if
the Law hath none, much less hath 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 paints, he starts with an
encomium of the hearers, in these words, "Know ye not, 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 that the Law hath dominion over a man
as long as he liveth?"
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 ceaseth 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.
Ver. 2, 3. "For the woman which hath an husband is bound by the
Law to her husband, so long as he liveth: but if the husband be
dead, she is loosed from the Law of her husband. So then, if while
her husband liveth, 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 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 doth 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 m as dead by saying, "Wherefore,
my brethren, ye also are become dead to the Law."
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 hath an husband is
bound by the Law to her husband as long as he liveth." What is
become now (3 Mss. 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 liveth, 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 liveth, she be married to another
man, she is called an adulteress." Thus it would have been natural
to say next, ye also, my brethren, now the Law is dead, will not be
judged guilty of adultery, if ye become married to another husband.
Yet he does not use these words, but what? "Ye are become dead to
the Law;" if ye have been made dead, ye 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. (Matt. xix. 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 ye have not been
freed merely, he means, but it was through the Lord's death. For
he says, "Ye are become dead to the Law by the Body of Christ."
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 ye
should be married to another, even to Him Who is raised from the
dead."
Then to prevent their saying, If we do not choose to live with
another husband, what theft? 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 Days down more clearly in other
passages, where he says, "Ye are not your own;" and, "Ye are
bought with a price;" and, "Be not ye the servants of men" (1
Cor. vi. 19, 20; vii. 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 Cor. v. 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, ye brought forth fruit unto
death, but now unto God.
Vet. 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 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 offence
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"
(Rom. ii. 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.
Ver. 6. "But now," he says, "we are delivered from the
Law."
(kathrghqhmen, "made of no effect.")
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. (Matt. v. 21, 27,
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, "Except your righteousness exceed the
righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees, ye shall in no case enter
into the kingdom of heaven." (Matt. v. 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 ye
are not under the Law, but under grace." And here again, "that ye
should serve in newness of spirit, and not in the oldness of the
letter." For it is not the letter that condemneth, that is the old
Law, but the Spirit that helpeth. 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.
Ver. 7. "What then? is the Law sin? God forbid."
Even before this he had been saying, that "the motions of sins,
which were by the Law did work in our members" (ver. 5): and,
"sin shall have no dominion over you, for ye are not under the
Law." (vi. 14.) And that "where no law is, there is no
transgression." (iv. 15.) And, "but the Law came in, that
the offence might abound" (v. 20); and, "the Law worketh
wrath." (iv. 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 z 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 killeth, he means, no one will
deny, or that the Spirit giveth life (2 Cor. iii. 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, Thou shalt not covet."
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, Thou shall not covet;" he adds, Ver.
8. "But sin, taking occasion by the commandment, wrought in me all
manner of concupiscence."
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 Mss. endeavored) of itself to keep us
off from it; but sin, that is, thy 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 Mss. "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
(polus pnein) 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
taketh 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 v. 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 xv. 22.) Here then sin finds a
footing in this fact, and so the greater punishment. And again when
Paul discourseth about grace, he says, "Of how much sorer
punishment, suppose ye, shall he be counted worthy, who hath trodden
under foot the Son of God."
(Heb. x. 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. Seest thou 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, Thou 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.
Ver. 9. "For I was alive without the Law once."
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 revived, and I died."
This seems indeed to be an accusing of the Law. 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.
Ver. 11. "For sin taking occasion by the commandment deceived
the, and by it slew me."
You observe how he everywhere keeps to sin, and entirely clears the
Law of accusation. And so he proceeds as follows.
Ver. 12. "Wherefore the law is holy, and the commandment holy,
and just, and good."
But, if ye 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 conversa tion, he goes on to say, "Know ye not,
brethren, how that the Law hath dominion over a man as long as he
liveth? Wherefore ye are 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, test 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 doth 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.
Ver. 13. "Was then that which is good made death unto me? God
forbid. But sin that it might appear sin." (4 Mss. om. h.)
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 Mss. 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 pre minence of grace above the Law, the pre minence 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.
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 issueth in death,
even as virtue leadeth 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 amongst. 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 hath 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 thou wert to
receive the goods of the whole world, and still to covet, wouldest
make thy punishment the greater, the more things thou hadst tasted of.
Fancy not then that from having gathered a great sum together thou
shall have aught of pleasure, but rather by declining to be rich. But
if thou covetest to be rich thou wilt be always under the scourge. For
this is a kind of love that does not reach its aim; and the longer
journey thou hast gone, the further off thou keepest from the end. 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 (prooimiwn). 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" (Prov. v. 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 viii. 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 by little and little ruin himself entirely. At all events it is
this which has introduced vice; which has opened the doors to the
robber (Mss. 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 a 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 xxxi. 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
(prooimiois). 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 (kakias). And this is why Christ chastised the man who
looks unchastely upon a woman (Matt. v. 28), that He might free
us from greater labor, before the adversary became strong, bidding us
cast him out of tile 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 Mss. 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, getteth 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 lusteth 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 (ths oikeias figosofias). For what He says is
not, "If a man smite thee on thy right cheek, bear it nobly and hold
thy peace;" but He adds to this the yielding to him the other too.
For He says, "Turn to him the other also." (Matt. v. 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.
paqein eu, so 2 Mss.) 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 thy 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 mikroYukias, and take refuge in the port of patient
endurance makroqumias, that here we may at once "find rest unto our
souls" (Matt. xi. 29), as Christ also set forth, and may
attain to the good things to come, by the grace and love toward man,
etc.
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