NOTES for Rom 15:14-33

When speaking of his apostolic ministry, Paul does not accidentally emphasize that he never preached where there were already churches founded thanks to the preaching of other witnesses of the Kingdom (vv. 20-21). Evidently, for Paul himself such ministry was a sign that he was bearing witness precisely to Christ and to the Kingdom, and not to his own religion.

Indeed, preaching to those who had already been converted could easily have turned into the preaching of particular ideas and views, all the more when the person involved was as striking in every respect as Paul was. He had plenty to tell besides Christ and the Kingdom. But that would have been possible only if he had preached to those who had already accepted Christ. In that case the apostle really could have begun, as other preachers did, to set out his own views and concepts. But this was exactly what Paul tried with all his strength to avoid, although it is perfectly clear that, had the matter come to concepts, he could have set them out for his listeners in such abundance as no one else could have offered them.

Paul is extremely cautious about instruction and exhortation. He does not seek to become either a teacher or a spiritual guide for those who, as he is convinced, need nothing of the sort (vv. 14-16). He merely reminds the members of the Roman church, as brothers, of what seemed to him fundamentally important for spiritual life.

But evidently this attitude toward his own ministry was important for Paul in another respect as well. He clearly knew how powerful the effect of his witness was and how significant his word was for Christians. Under such circumstances, the mere appearance of the apostle could well have introduced a certain discord into the settled life of a church, where, of course, there were already teachers, guides, and preachers of its own. A person of such stature would inevitably have drawn every eye and all attention to himself in any church, and Paul plainly did not want this at all: for the Kingdom and for witness, such a state of affairs would not have been useful in any way. And the apostle prefers to act where the circumstances themselves will limit his witness exclusively to the theme of Christ and the Kingdom, and where he will in no way be able, even unintentionally, to disturb the life of already existing churches. Just as an apostle should.

Describing his ministry, the apostle points to its distinguishing feature: he never said anything that he was not aware of as coming from Jesus Christ Himself. As a rule, Paul says nothing on his own; if he does say (or write) something, he openly warns about it. He distinguishes with absolute clarity his own words, thoughts, and will from the words, thoughts, and will of the Savior.

This is a characteristic feature of the ministry, and indeed of the whole life, of every Christian, if that life is truly Christian. A Christian is always aware of the difference between himself and the One whom he serves and in whose name he speaks and acts. Of course, a situation is entirely possible in a Christian's life when the Savior leaves certain things to his discretion, but then the Christian understands exactly what has been left to his discretion and within what limits.

And then, naturally, he knows that he speaks and acts in his own name, relying on his own experience and reason. And here it is not simply something general, as often happens even with quite religious people, who speak about God's will as something they read about in the Bible or in other books, or as some thoughts and ideas of their own that, as they think, came from God.

Here everything is entirely clear and distinct; here the will of Christ is perceived as a completely concrete reality of one's own life, one's own spiritual space, where its presence is as obvious as the presence there of one's own will is obvious to anyone. Properly speaking, only such a life can be called truly Christian. It is continuous, conscious communion with Christ, who is always present in a person's life.

And, of course, equally conscious communion with His heavenly Father. Communion in which a person does not disappear or dissolve, does not sink into some faceless "grace," does not lose himself in "spiritual" ecstasy, but builds his life and ministry by following Christ's will, to which he freely gives his own human will. He gives it not in order to lose it, but to receive it back renewed, capable of becoming an instrument of God's action in His Kingdom.

Speaking of his apostolic ministry, Paul clearly pays special attention to both the spiritual and the material unity of the Church. It is no accident that he especially asks the Roman Christians to pray for him: for him, it is clear, it is very important that the Roman church, which he wants to visit, participate in his ministry through prayer (vv. 30-32). The spiritual unity of the Church for the apostle is evidently not an abstraction, but a completely concrete reality: in order to experience spiritual unity in a personal meeting, one must learn to experience it also when the inhabitants of the Kingdom are separated by physical space, whose overcoming in our not yet fully transformed world requires certain efforts, both spiritual and physical. If brothers are remembered only as long as they are nearby, then those who remember have not yet partaken of the Kingdom, where memory does not depend on physical distances. The proverb "out of sight, out of mind" is quite fair for the untransformed world, but it does not apply to the relationships of the Kingdom.

On the other hand, Paul evidently considers very important the financial help that Christians from other churches, made up apparently mostly of converted Gentiles, give to the Jerusalem church (vv. 25-27). Here the matter is not so much spiritual support as material, financial support. But for Paul, it is clear, such material support is also a spiritual matter. And not only because helping brothers in need is a work of love and an act of a righteous person, but also because the Kingdom includes every possible kind of interpersonal relationship, including financial ones.

The saying "friendship is friendship, but keep the tobacco separate" is, even for people living in our not yet fully transformed world, an example not of what relationships with one's neighbor should be, but of what they should not be. This is all the more true when the Kingdom is in view, for here all relationships between people are transformed, not only those that we customarily call "spiritual" and that, as people often think, should not touch the financial and, more broadly, material side at all, as though it were something "base" and "unspiritual." For the apostle, however, everything connected with relationships among people in the Kingdom has to do with spiritual life. And he rejoices in every manifestation of love, whether it is expressed in prayer or in financial support.

Paul writes that he is carrying aid to the Christians of Jerusalem and Judea, collected in the churches of Macedonia and Achaia. And for the apostle this is not simply something done along the way, as today we sometimes deliver a package to friends or to friends of our friends when going to another city on a business or private visit. For Paul, taking the donations collected for the Jerusalem church is part of his apostolic ministry. And this attitude toward such donations reminds us once again that works of mercy for Christians are not only a matter of material or social support for those to whom it is given.

In church life there is no social service in its pure form: the Church knows only spiritual ministries. And helping those who need it is no less a spiritual ministry than preaching, mission, or apostleship. This is understandable: Christian life is not divided into “spiritual” and “worldly.” Such a thing would be possible if we were one kind of people in church, another on the street, and still some third, fourth, or fifth kind at work, among acquaintances, on vacation, and in the other places where we have to be.

Nevertheless, this is often exactly how it is, and then what are called religious duties enter our life. Among these religious duties, one of the most important for Christians is considered to be “works of mercy,” or “social service.” There is nothing surprising here. If our “spiritual” life exists separately from our “worldly” life, there must necessarily be a connection between them. “Spiritual” life penetrates the “worldly,” and at this intersection there appears what we perceive as our “religious duties.” These are the duties that may be a joy to us or a burden, but that must still be performed simply because they are duties. Having performed them, we receive the right to “spiritual” life in church, to prayer, to participation in the breaking of bread, and simply to communion with God as such. If you do not perform religious duties, do not go to church!

Of course, in practice everything is not quite so: the practice of church life has long since developed mechanisms that presuppose a certain compromise between the right to communion with God and the scope of those same religious duties. But the logic still does not change; the principle of the interconnection between “spiritual” life and “worldly” life remains exactly the same.

For Paul, however, life is not divided into “spiritual” and “worldly.” To deliver the collected donations is for him not social service, but the same act of love as his whole apostolic ministry and the whole Christian path: a path where there was no division into “spiritual” and “worldly,” and therefore no religious duties that included works of mercy. There was only the Kingdom and its life, one and indivisible.