NOTES for Rom 12:16

Speaking of relationships among the faithful, Paul advises them to follow the example of those who in those days were commonly called "the poor" or "the humble." Once, eight centuries before the coming of the Messiah, in the time of Isaiah of Jerusalem, this was the name given to the prophet's followers, who gave rise to an entire religious movement. Its participants called themselves "the poor" or "the humble," although the issue was usually not their material condition but their spiritual state. These people considered their main goal to be preparation for meeting the Messiah, whose imminent coming Isaiah spoke of.

They called themselves "the poor" and "the humble" because they understood that only by renouncing everything one has in this world and completely giving oneself over to God's will can a person hope to enter the Messiah's Kingdom. And Paul, addressing his fellow believers, calls them to the humility of which the "poor" of the pre-exilic age had already spoken. What does the apostle understand by humility when the issue is one's attitude toward a neighbor, toward a fellow member in Christ? First of all, what in Russian translation is called, not very successfully, "being of one mind." One might think that the issue is shared views on one or another question.

In reality the corresponding Greek expression means "to think of another in the same way." And the issue is, on the one hand, not to single anyone out or give anyone preference, and on the other hand, not to place oneself above others either. Such a call may seem impossible to fulfill: people are different, and these differences cannot be ignored. But Paul does not call us to ignore the difference between people. He proposes only not to single some out over others, not to place some higher and others lower on the basis of a person's abilities or personal merits.

And in this sense not to give preference to oneself either, "not to be proud of oneself," as the apostle says. Indeed, true humility consists not in considering oneself lower than everyone, but in ceasing to evaluate both oneself and others. Of course, we are all different, and these differences must be seen. But it is not worth trying to determine who is more significant in God's eyes, who is higher and who lower in this respect. God Himself can determine this when the need arises. And we can do His work perfectly well without thinking at all about how much higher or lower we are in His eyes compared with any of our neighbors.

Paul considers the chief condition of Christian life to be the need to overcome evil with good. He explains in considerable detail what he means: this includes prayer for everyone we know and with whom we have established relationships, including our enemies; openness, which presupposes hospitality and a readiness to take part in our neighbour’s life when such participation is needed; calm in times of distress; and that unity of mind which arises in relationships where those relationships themselves take first place, rather than the desire to assert oneself.

All these things are possible only when a person’s own life is full and when it is filled with God’s breath, the breath of that Kingdom whose citizen every Christian is. Human life is a stream filled by God with the participation of the person themselves.

God is ready to fill with His breath the life of everyone who opens themselves to Him, and Christ is ready to reveal the fullness of the Kingdom to everyone who trusts Him. But openness to God also presupposes openness to the world. “Freely you have received; freely give” is one of the main principles of Christian life, the life of the Kingdom. The stream of life must flow freely. But we are all fallen people, and fallen human nature fears such freedom. It constantly seems to us that if we allow our life to flow freely, it will very quickly drain away altogether and the stream will dry up.

In fact, the opposite is true: every attempt to stop the stream of life, to build a barrier in its course or even an entire system of dams and dykes, inevitably causes the stream to dry up, while the accumulated water slowly but steadily turns into stagnant mire. This is precisely what the apostle warns against. He has quite practical recommendations in mind, but they can be followed only if the stream of our life flows freely and is filled with the waters of the Kingdom. Otherwise, no amount of strength will be enough to live the life described by the apostle.

At least, not to live it continually, especially where love for enemies and the renunciation of revenge are concerned. Of course, the outward appearance can be maintained for ideological or religious reasons. One can “forgive” an enemy through clenched teeth and even restrain oneself from revenge by force of will. But the point is something else: that the very thought of revenge should not arise, and that we should think about our enemies only as much as is necessary to keep them from preventing us from doing God’s work.

As soon as the struggle against enemies becomes an end in itself, the battle is lost. The struggle against evil is lost as well if we set ourselves the goal of triumphing over the forces of evil rather than revealing the life of the Kingdom to the world, which is the chief meaning of a Christian’s life. A river, as it carves out its channel, fights no one; it simply moves steadily towards the destination appointed for it by God, towards the sea or ocean into which it flows. Christian life is like a river flowing from the Kingdom and pouring into the world through the hearts of Christians. To be such a stream is the principal task of Christian life.

All the apostle Paul’s recommendations in this section of the Epistle to the Romans are remarkable and worthy of special consideration. Yet it is especially important to dwell on some of the internal connections between the rules of Christian life that Paul proposes in verses 11 and 12.

“Do not grow slack in zeal.” We usually call zeal a persistent activity that demands an effort of the will and presses through our own laziness. But this is immediately followed by “be fervent in spirit.” When the fire of the spirit is kindled within us, no effort is needed; everything happens as if “by itself.” These are two antitheses in the description of our activity, after which Paul offers a synthesis: “serve the Lord.” Thus, our actions are called to be service to God, regardless of whether they are performed with ease or with great effort.

Now comes the next group of three. “Rejoice in hope.” Through the expectation of something good in the future, hope gives us a bright state of soul already in the present. “Be patient in tribulation.” Something negative that happened in the past plunges us into sorrow that is difficult to bear, and therefore we need patience. But once again comes the synthesis: “be constant in prayer”! Both a bright and a dark state of soul should move us toward communion with God.

Paul therefore knows the alternating “stripes” of our life: an ascent is followed by a decline, and vice versa. Yet he says that in every circumstance God stands at the center of the Christian’s life, attention, and actions.

Describing the life of the Kingdom and of those who share in it, Paul emphasizes a very important feature of our age, the age of the coming Kingdom, which, as it is revealed in ever greater fullness, includes more and more new inhabitants.

Earlier, speaking about the ways God acts in the world, the apostle, referring to the Torah, drew his readers' attention to the fact that God can act even through those who oppose Him; but in that case it was already an action not of God's love, but of God's power. Now the picture, at first glance, changes: the action of God's love is quite obvious, and Paul describes its manifestations in considerable detail and vividness, both in relations among brothers and in the relations of Christians with those who do not yet know the Kingdom (vv. 9-18).

But the apostle does not mention manifestations of the action of God's power like those Paul speaks about when referring to texts from Exodus. On the contrary, he forbids revenge, undoubtedly following here the teaching of Jesus Himself, and proposes putting it off until God Himself directly manifests His power and carries out His judgment (vv. 19-21). But judging by everything Paul says about the Kingdom and the Savior's return, one must think that the final judgment over God's enemies, and therefore over the enemies of the faithful, is postponed until the end of time.

At first glance it may appear that in this way God exposes His people to attack, since in that case the faithful will not soon have to wait for God's judgment. On the other hand, such a way of acting in our fallen world is evidently the only possible one. Indeed, one can speak of God's final judgment only when a person is in the Kingdom or before the face of the Kingdom, and of the Kingdom revealed in all its fullness.

Of course, God already sees every heart. But the history of the Kingdom is only beginning; it has not yet been revealed so fully as to transform to the end our world, which is still not free from sin. This means that the earlier history, in which the choice of a path meant only the choice of a path, has not entirely ended. The old world has ceased to be the only reality of history, but it still makes up a certain part of it. Therefore every choice made by a person in this dual and divided world cannot be considered final, unless we are speaking of those who have chosen the Kingdom and gone their way to the end. Everyone else still has, until the Savior's return, a chance to change his mind, to change his decision and his choice.

Then they must also be given time to use this chance. By postponing His judgment, God gives them time so that all the possibilities for the salvation of each person may be used to the end. For those who are already in the Kingdom, the path of salvation is open. Now the time has come for them to think about those who do not yet know this path, so that the Savior may truly be Savior for everyone who can still be saved.

Nothing is more contrary to our everyday life than this text of the apostle. Unfortunately, this is true even of everyday Christian life. To accept another person as he is, to love him tenderly, to respect his uniqueness, and to recognize how much we need our differences is an almost impossible task. Paul’s words are extraordinarily simple, and for that very reason they strike us all the more forcefully. They are a kind of instruction for life that must simply be followed without argument or, as it says here, without conceit. There are obvious things that should not be clouded by reasoning about how and why to do them. They simply have to be done. Otherwise the world entrusted to us collapses. There is no use being alarmed: if you pour water on a running electric motor, you will inevitably cause a short circuit. No matter how much you speculate about the strange properties of electricity, there will still be a short circuit. It is the same in life: if you do not respect the people around you, do not abhor evil, and do not consistently carry out what Paul has written, the result is division and hatred. Returning to the instructions for living life, our task is to follow them every day. Paul also does not recommend dreaming about how good everything will be once all this has been accomplished, because this road has no end.