Sermons to the People 169.10–169.18

So the Apostle shuddered—struck and laid low, raised and instructed. For in him was done: “I will strike, and I will heal.” For he does not say, “I will heal and strike,” but, “I will strike and heal.” I will strike you, and give you myself. So, laid low, he shuddered at his own righteousness, in which he was certainly without complaint, praiseworthy, great, as it were glorious among the Jews: he counted it losses, believed it damage, reckoned it dung, “that he might be found in him, not having his own righteousness which is from the Law, but that which is through faith in Christ, which is,” he says, “from God.” But those who stumbled over the stone of stumbling—what does the Apostle himself say of them? “Because not,” he says, “from faith, but as if from works.” Because, as with their own righteousness, they stumbled over the stone of stumbling: as it is written, “Behold, I lay in Zion a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense; and whoever believes in him will not be put to shame.” For whoever believes in him will not have his own righteousness which is from the Law, although the Law is good; but he will fulfill the Law itself, not by his own righteousness, but by that given from God. So he will not be put to shame. “For love is the fullness of the Law.” And from where has this love been poured out in our hearts? Certainly not from us, but “through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us.” So those stumbled over the stone of stumbling and the rock of offense. And he says of them: “Brothers, the good will of my heart and my prayer to God for them is for salvation.” The Apostle prays for unbelievers, that they may believe; for those turned away, that they may be turned back. You see that not even conversion itself is without God's help. “My prayer to God for them,” he says, “is for salvation. For I bear them witness that they have a zeal for God.” So he himself had it too: he had a zeal for God. But how did he have it? As they had it: “but not according to knowledge.” What is this, “not according to knowledge”? “For being ignorant of God's righteousness, and seeking to establish their own.” Hence, corrected of this, he says, “Not having my own righteousness.” They want to establish their own; it still delights them to lie in dung. “I do not have my own righteousness, but that which is through faith in Christ, the righteousness from God”—the righteousness, I say, from God, who justifies the ungodly.

Take yourself away—take yourself, I say, away from yourself: you hinder yourself. If you build yourself, you build a ruin. “Unless the Lord builds the house, those who build it have labored in vain.” So do not want to have your own righteousness. Certainly it is from the Law—indeed it is from the Law; certainly God gave the Law—and because righteousness is from the Law, let it not be yours. The apostle Paul speaks: let those who love their own righteousness not raise quibbles against me. See where you have him: open, read, listen, see. Do not want to have your own righteousness: the Apostle reckons it dung, although it is from the Law, yet because it is his own. “For being ignorant of God's righteousness, and seeking to establish their own, they did not submit to God's righteousness.” Do not think that because you are called a Christian you therefore cannot stumble over the stone of stumbling. Whose grace you disparage, him you stumble over. It is a lesser thing to stumble over Christ hanging on the cross than seated in heaven. Let there be righteousness, but let it be from grace; let it be yours from God; let it not be your own. “Let your priests,” it says, “be clothed with righteousness.” A garment is received; it is not born with the hair: cattle are clothed from their own. This the apostle Paul preaches: let it be yours from God. Groan to obtain it; weep to obtain it; believe to obtain it. “Whoever calls,” it says, “on the name of the Lord will be saved.” Do you think it was said, “Whoever calls on the name of the Lord will be saved,” in the sense of saved from a fever, or a plague, or gout, or some pain of the body? Not so; but he will be saved, he will be righteous. “For it is not the healthy who need a physician, but those who are ill.” He explained it when he said, “I did not come to call the righteous, but sinners.”

See then what follows. “And may I be found in him,” he says, “not having my own righteousness, which is from the Law”—although from the Law, yet my own—“but that which is through faith in Christ”—which is obtained from God, which is from God—“righteousness in faith, so as to know him and the power of his resurrection.” It is something great to know the power of Christ's resurrection. Do you think this is great because he raised his own flesh? Is that what he called the power of his resurrection? Will not our resurrection too come at the end of the world? Will not this corruptible of ours too put on incorruption, and this mortal put on immortality? Just as he rose from the dead and now does not die, and death will no longer have dominion over him, so shall we too—more wonderfully, if I may say so? For his flesh did not see corruption; ours is restored from ashes. It is indeed great, because he went before as an example and gave us what to hope for; but this is not all for one who was speaking of a righteousness not his own but from God, and there named the power of Christ's resurrection: recognize there your justification. For by his resurrection we are justified, as we are circumcised by the rock. That is why he began from there: “We are the circumcision.” From where the circumcision? From the rock. What rock? Christ. How? On the eighth day. As the Lord rose on the Lord's day.

So, my brothers, let us both have this justification as far as we have it, and increase it as far as we fall short, and bring it to completion when we arrive there where it will be said: “Where, O death, is your victory? Where, O death, is your sting?” But all is from God: not, however, as if we were asleep, not as if we were not to try, not as if we were not to will. Without your will the righteousness of God will not be in you. The will indeed is only yours; the righteousness is only God's. The righteousness of God can exist without your will, but it cannot be in you apart from your will. What you ought to do has been shown: the Law commanded, “Do not do this, nor that; do this and that.” It has been shown to you, commanded you, opened to you; if you have a heart, you have understood what to do: ask that you may do it, if you know the power of Christ's resurrection. “For he was handed over for our sins, and rose for our justification.” What is “for our justification”? That he may justify us, that he may make us righteous. You will be God's work, not only because you are a man, but also because you are righteous. For it is better to be righteous than to be a man. If God made you a man, and you make yourself righteous, you make something better than God made. But God made you without you. For you did not give any consent so that God might make you. How did you consent, who did not exist? So he who made you without you does not justify you without you. So he made one who did not know; he justifies one who wills. Yet he himself justifies, lest the righteousness be yours, lest you return to losses, damages, and dung—to be found in him not having your own righteousness, which is from the Law, but the righteousness through faith in Christ, which is from God: the righteousness from faith, so as to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings. And that will be your strength; the fellowship of Christ's sufferings will be your strength.

But what will there be in fellowship with Christ's sufferings if there is no love? Are not tortured robbers found with such strength of body that some of them not only refused to betray their accomplices but did not even deign to confess their own names; amid torments and tortures, their sides dug open and their limbs almost destroyed, their mind remained in the most wicked obstinacy? See, then, what they loved. Yet they could not do these things without great love. But the lover of God is not so. God is not loved except from God. That man loved something else from the flesh, as a man. Whatever he loved—whether he loved his companions, loved his partnership in crime, loved glory in his misdeeds—whatever he loved, he loved much, who could be tortured and could not give way. If then he could not—he who could be tortured and could not give way—if then he could not bear so much without love, neither will you be able to share in Christ's sufferings without love.

But I ask, with what love? Let it not be greed, but let it be charity. “For if I hand over my body to be burned,” he says, “but do not have love, it profits me nothing.” For fellowship with Christ's sufferings to profit you, let love be present. From where do you get love? O most beggarly weakness, from where do you get the love of God? Do you want me to show you where you get it? Ask the Lord's granary keeper himself. For if the love of God is in you, you will share in Christ's sufferings and will be a true martyr. In whom love is crowned, he will be a true martyr. From where then do you get it? “We have this treasure in earthen vessels,” says the Apostle himself, “so that the surpassing greatness of the power may be God's and not from us.” So from where do you get love, if not because “it has been poured out in our hearts through the Holy Spirit who has been given to us”? See what to groan for. Despise your own spirit; receive the Spirit of God. Let your spirit not fear that, when the Spirit of God begins to dwell in you, it will suffer narrowness in your body. When the Spirit of God begins to dwell in your body, he will not shut your spirit out of it: do not fear. If you receive some rich man as a guest, you suffer narrowness; you find nowhere to stay yourself, nowhere to make up a bed for him, nowhere for his wife, his children, his household. “What shall I do?” you say. “Where shall I go? Where shall I move?” Receive the rich Spirit of God: you will be enlarged, not narrowed. “You have enlarged my steps under me,” you say. You will say to your guest, “You have enlarged my steps under me. When you were not here, I suffered narrowness: you have filled my room, and you have not shut me out, but my narrowness.” For when he says, “The love of God has been poured out,” the very pouring out signifies breadth. So do not fear narrowness; receive this guest; and let him not be a guest as of those passing through. For he has nothing to give by leaving. Coming, let him dwell in you; and he has given. Be his; let him not desert you, let him not move away from there: hold him by all means, and say to him, “O Lord our God, possess us.”

So, he says, let us have the righteousness which is from God for this: “so as to know him and the power of his resurrection and the fellowship of his sufferings, being conformed to his death.” “For we were buried,” he says, “with Christ through Baptism into death, so that as Christ rose from the dead, so we too may walk in newness of life.” Die, that you may live; be buried, that you may rise. For when you have been buried and have risen, then “Lift up your heart” will be true. What I said has tasted sweet. Would this sermon taste sweet unless there were an inner sweetness in you? “Being conformed,” he says, “to his death, if somehow I may attain to the resurrection of the dead.” He was speaking of righteousness, the righteousness which is from faith in Christ, the righteousness which is from God, and so he went through everything. And when he was seeking righteousness, saying, “that I may be found in him not having my own righteousness which is from the Law, but the righteousness which is from faith in Christ, which is from God,” he now says, “if somehow I may attain to the resurrection of the dead.” Why did you say, “if somehow I may attain”? “Not that I have already received it, or am already perfect; but I pursue, if somehow I may lay hold of that for which I also have been laid hold of by Christ Jesus.” His righteousness went before me; let mine follow it. But mine will follow it then if it is not mine. “If somehow I may attain. Not that I have already received it, or am already perfect.” Those who heard the Apostle saying this began to wonder: “Not that I have already received it, or am already perfect.” What was it that he had not yet received? He had faith, he had virtue, he had hope, he was burning with love, he worked miracles, he preached unconquerably, he endured all persecutions, patient in all things, loving the Church, carrying in his heart the care of all the churches: what had he not yet received? “Not that I have already received it, or am already perfect.” What is it you are saying? You say it, and we wonder; you say it, and we are astonished. For we know what we are hearing: what are you saying? “Brothers,” he says. What is it you are saying? What do you say? “I do not consider that I have laid hold of it myself.” “Do not be deceived about me,” he says; “I know myself better than you do. I know what I lack; I know what I have. I do not consider that I have laid hold of it myself. But one thing: this I do not consider I have laid hold of.” “I have many things, and one thing I have not yet laid hold of.” “One thing I have asked of the Lord; this I will seek.” What have you asked, or what are you seeking? “That I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life.” For what? “That I may contemplate the delight of the Lord.” This is the one thing that the Apostle said he had not yet laid hold of; and as much as he lacked it, so far he was not yet perfect.

You remember, my brothers, that Gospel reading where two sisters received the Lord, Martha and Mary. Certainly you recall it: Martha was busy with much serving and was occupied with the care of the house; for she had received the Lord and his disciples as guests. She bustled about with every most devout care, lest the holy ones suffer any slight in her house. So while she was occupied with much serving, Mary her sister sat at the Lord's feet and listened to his word. Martha, irritated in her labor at seeing her sitting and caring nothing for her own labors, appealed to the Lord: “Does it please you, Lord,” she said, “that my sister has left me, and see how much I labor in serving?” And the Lord: “Martha, Martha, you are occupied about much. But one thing is necessary. Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken from her.” You chose a good part, but she the better. You a good part—for it is good to be busy in the service of the saints—but she the better. In short, what you have chosen passes away. You serve the hungry, you serve the thirsty, you serve beds to those who will sleep, you provide a house to those wishing to dwell: all these things pass away. There will be a time when no one hungers, no one thirsts, no one sleeps. So your care will be taken from you. “Mary has chosen the better part, which will not be taken from her.” It will not be taken: she chose to contemplate, she chose to live by the Word. What will life from the Word be without a word? Now she was living from the Word, but by the word sounding. There will be life from the Word with no word sounding. The Word himself is life. “We shall be like him, because we shall see him as he is.” That was the one thing: to contemplate the delight of the Lord. This we cannot do in the night of this world. “In the morning I will stand before you, and I will contemplate.” So: “I,” he says, “do not consider that I have laid hold of it myself. But one thing.”

What then do I do? “Forgetting what lies behind, stretched out toward what lies ahead, according to intention I pursue.” I still pursue: “toward the prize of God's upward calling in Christ Jesus.” I still pursue, I still make progress, I still walk, I am still on the way, I still stretch out; I have not yet arrived. So if you too are walking, if you are stretching out, if you are thinking of the things to come, forget the things past; do not look back at them, lest you remain where you looked back. “Remember Lot's wife.” “So let as many as are perfect think this.” He had said, “I am not perfect,” and he says, “Let as many as are perfect think this.” “I do not consider that I have laid hold of it myself. Not that I have already received it, or am already perfect”: and he says, “Let as many as are perfect think this.” Perfect, and not perfect: perfect travelers, not yet perfect possessors. And that you may know that he calls them perfect travelers—those who already walk on the way are perfect travelers—that you may know that he spoke of travelers, not dwellers, not possessors, hear what follows: “So let as many as are perfect think this. And if you think anything otherwise,” lest perhaps it creep into you that you are something—“for if anyone thinks himself to be something, when he is nothing, he deceives himself,” and “he who thinks he knows something does not yet know as he ought to know”—so, “and if you think anything otherwise,” as little ones, “God will reveal that too to you. Nevertheless, in that to which we have attained, let us walk.” So that God may reveal to us also what we think otherwise, let us not remain in that to which we have attained, but walk in it. You see that we are travelers. You ask, “What is walking?” I say briefly: making progress; lest perhaps you not understand and walk more lazily. Make progress, my brothers; examine yourselves always without deceit, without flattery, without coaxing. For there is no one within with you before whom you would blush or show off. There is someone there, but one whom humility pleases: let him test you. Test yourself too, yourself. Let what you are always displease you, if you want to arrive at what you are not yet. For where you have pleased yourself, there you have stopped. But if you say, “It is enough,” you have perished. Always add, always walk, always make progress: do not stop on the way, do not go back, do not go astray. He stops who does not make progress; he goes back who turns back to the things he had already left; he goes astray who apostatizes. Better a lame man on the way than a runner off the way. Turning to the Lord, etc.