NOTES for Rom 4:1-15

Continuing the theme of the universalism of the Torah, Paul turns to the figure of Abraham. He points to the fact that Abraham became righteous not as a result of his religiosity, but because he was able to trust God (vv. 1-3). The apostle again points out that trust in God is the basis of righteousness, while works of righteousness are only the consequence of that trust (vv. 4-8). Even such an important religious rite as circumcision turns out for Paul to be only a sign of the relationships that bind the righteous person to God, and in no way their foundation (vv. 9-12). One could say that in these reflections Paul remains a follower of Hillel and of his teacher Gamaliel, for it was Hillel and his followers who always maintained that the basis of righteousness and of spiritual life in general is relationship with God, while all the rest of religious life connected with observing the Torah is only its consequence; without that relationship, it loses all meaning.

But Paul again goes further than both Hillel and Gamaliel. He says: if circumcision is only a sign of belonging to the people of God, given by God to Abraham as a consequence of his righteousness, then righteousness is also possible for the uncircumcised if they are able to trust God in the same way as the circumcised. In this sense Abraham becomes the spiritual father of all the righteous, both the circumcised (Jews) and the uncircumcised (Gentiles) (vv. 11-12).

The apostle by no means thinks there is no difference at all between these two categories of righteous people; he only reminds us that righteousness is one, and if a person, even an uncircumcised person, walks the path of righteousness, then sooner or later he will come to the same place to which the circumcised come by that path. The Torah is not a flying carpet given by God to His people in order to carry them into the Kingdom as if by the wave of a magic wand, sparing them from the path on which righteousness is acquired; it is a guide that helps them stay on the path. To regard the Torah as a privilege is a dangerous error, for if one takes it seriously, it will reveal not the advantages, but the sins, of the one who strives to follow it. Righteousness is greater than the Torah; the righteous person receives from God what was promised to him not because he deserved it, but only by God's mercy. The Torah in itself gives no one any rights (vv. 13-14). If someone decided to boast before God that he knows the Torah better than others, this would quite naturally provoke only God's wrath, for such knowledge would reveal first of all not the righteousness, but the sins, of the one boasting (vv. 14-15).

In this respect it is simpler for a Gentile: he does not claim knowledge of the Torah or the role of its keeper. Knowledge of the Torah in itself does not guarantee righteousness, and therefore on the way to the Kingdom there is no difference before God between Jew and Gentile. But more is required from those to whom the Torah has been given, because they know more about their sins than those who have not heard of the Torah.

When speaking of faith, we often mean belief in God’s very existence, in His presence in the world. Most people have no difficulty with this. It is rare to meet a genuine atheist; more often, a person is ready to acknowledge the presence and influence in the world of a Being they are prepared to call God. But this is not what Paul is speaking about. Today’s reading asks us, “Do you believe God? Do you trust Him?” It turns out, then, that our principal task is to believe His words, His action, and His plans, and to trust His will. Having thought about it, we are probably ready to do even this, but afterward we will have to act, trusting Him in everything and carrying out the work appointed for us. Will we manage it this time? Most likely not, and this upsets us and deprives us of hope and joy. Yet the faith that is counted as righteousness, as our principal work, consists precisely in accepting the most astonishing thing about the merciful God: that for Him, our trusting Him, getting up again and again, and trying to act according to His will matters more than the fact that once again we did not succeed.

If Abraham was justified not by works, then why did he do works? Does this mean that it is enough to have faith and one need do nothing?

To understand Paul's words correctly, one must remember what faith is. If by faith one understands exclusively a set of theoretical ideas that have no practical outcome, then indeed it is unclear how such faith can justify. But if faith is an inner fire that transforms a person, then works will necessarily become its consequence and manifestation. Works in themselves cannot justify not because they are unnecessary, since their uselessness is nowhere asserted, but because in the sinful world even the motivation for necessary and noble works may turn out to be base, and the works themselves, though they appear useful, may not in fact be so.

The thought that where there is no law, there is no transgression, like many of Paul's words, sounds paradoxical. But if so, why was the law given?

The law was given so that we would better recognize where evil is. The law itself is not primary; a good will to observe it is a consequence of faith. Fulfillment of the commandments of the law flows from trust in God. Formal legalism dries up the living bond with Him. But through faith the observance of the law can be given life.

Paul draws attention to a fact repeatedly discussed in the rabbinic debates of his era: Abraham heard God, came to know Him, and believed Him before the giving of the Torah and even before the day when he was circumcised. Circumcision was a most important moment: for Jews in those times (and for Orthodox believing Jews today as well) the world is divided into the circumcised and the uncircumcised, one's own and strangers, Jews and Gentiles. In connection with this, rabbinic circles argued a great deal about the exact moment when Abraham becomes the "father of all who believe."

The apostle affirms that Abraham became such at the very moment when he trusted God. The Torah and circumcision came afterward. This is understandable, for the Torah is ultimately not an end in itself, but only a means on the path of righteousness - the very path that, according to Paul, is now possible after Christ's coming only together with Him.

Therefore faith is the main thing. The issue, of course, is not what we often call faith today: not dogmatics whose correctness we are convinced of, not creeds we are ready to defend, and not even a worldview we regard as the most correct and adequate. The issue is faith in the biblical sense of the word, faith as trust and as the relationships that flow from such trust. And relationships are always dynamic and exist in the present - always here and now.

The Torah merely helps us build our life (inner and outer) in such a way that relations with God, relations with Christ, always remain for us the center around which everything else is gathered. And the "works of the Torah," including even such an important work as circumcision, are already the third, external level of human existence. It is also significant, of course, but it does not determine a person's relations with God and people. This is how the apostle builds the hierarchy of levels of existence (or, as a modern philosopher might say, existential layers) without which full Christian life will be at least difficult, if not altogether impossible.

In the Epistle to the Romans, the apostle Paul tells us what we can and should learn from Abraham. The patriarch's faith not only brings him the long-awaited child, but also makes him righteous.

Again in the Old Testament we see flashes of the radiance of paradise, which seemed to have been lost forever by humanity, paradise where aging and death had no power over Adam and Eve. The law of the material world is overruled, overruled by God and by the human being who believes His word and His power. Abraham had been promised that many nations would come from him. And what happened? Abraham was already almost a hundred years old and still had not seen his offspring.

But for a son to be born, another child first had to grow: the child of faith. Abraham nurtured that child within himself for many years. And it is remarkable that this very child, if we believe, makes us his descendants and gives us the opportunity to take part in the promise: the promise of being heirs of the world, the Kingdom of God.

Thanks to the faith of a single person - Abraham - God was able to separate a whole nation for Himself. For, the faith of Abraham is a promise of faithfulness and more, the faith is directed towards the future. That is why the faith is bigger than works and at the same time "dead without works". Bigger do not mean better. The faith is bigger than works because it is directed towards eternity. It is dead without works because works witness about faith, fulfill it. But works without faith are impossible: Abraham believed at first, and then got up and went, and even more important, Abraham first believed and only after that Sara conceived their son. Miracles are impossible without faith. Jesus made no miracles where they didn’t believe in Him: “and made no miracles there”.

Faith is important not only for ourselves, our faith is also important for our children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren, and even for the whole world. Among the people, whom God sanctified thanks to the just faith of Abraham, was born the Messiah Jesus Christ.

If the promise of being heir of the world were "owed by law" to people, there would be no relationship in it, there would be no personhood of ours; neither the human being nor God would be participating in it. If our life were governed not by a loving God and the human being created by Him, free and choosing relationship with God, but by some terrifying universal code, then violation of the law would mean exile forever from the people of God, while observance would mean automatic inheritance, according to law, without personal relationships, without Encounter.

But the Lord grants us the promise, the inheritance of the world, not for keeping a set of rules and obeying the law, but for faith, that is, the choice of relationship, the recognition that He is God, beyond hope, as with Abraham. And God responds not by fulfilling a contract, signed and sealed, but with mercy and love.

The apostle Paul reveals the meaning of Christ's gospel words through the example of Abraham. The promise of salvation was given to Abraham not for his good works, but according to God's mercy, and he received it not according to the law, as though he had taken what was owed to him, but through an astonishing faith in the goodness and almighty power of God. Such faith, such trust, brings a person into a special relationship with God. Then the person's inner system of values changes; evil becomes inwardly repulsive to him, and this is the "righteousness of faith." How much easier it is for us than for Abraham to accept such faith, because God's goodness and almighty power were shown to us by the Father, who gave the Son over to death and raised Him for our justification.

God is one for all, and therefore He saves everyone: both Jews and Gentiles, circumcised and uncircumcised, clean and unclean (for He does not turn away from the leper). He saves all by faith, not by works. But what does this faith consist in? It turns out that for God to become salvation for us, we must not only listen to His words but also do them. What a paradox! On the one hand - only faith; on the other - by not doing God's will, we risk ending up under the wreckage of our own life.