Sermons to the People 26.1–26.15

The psalm that we have sung to God, in which we exhorted one another to adore him, and fall down before him, and weep before the Lord who made us, prompts us to ask somewhat more carefully what it means when it says, “who made us.” For that man was created by God no man doubts, unless he is ungrateful. We know, because so we have read and so we have believed, that God made man, among the many things that he made, in his own image. This is man’s first condition; this is humanity’s first creation. Yet I do not think that the Holy Spirit wished to remind us of this as something great in this psalm when it says, “Let us weep before the Lord who made us”: for in another place it says, “He made us, and not we ourselves.” About this, as I said, no Christian has any doubt: for God not only created the first man, from whom all men come, but God also creates individual men today; he who said to a certain saint of his, “Before I formed you in the womb, I knew you.” First, then, he created man without man; now he creates man from man. Yet whether man without man or man from man, “he made us, and not we ourselves.” With this first and easy sense of these words, a true one nonetheless, let us adore him, brothers, and fall down before him, and weep before the Lord who made us. For he did not make and then abandon; he did not take care to make and then not care to keep. Let us weep before the Lord who made us: for we did not weep when he made us, and yet he made us. Will he who made us before he was asked abandon us when he is asked? So, as though man doubted whether he would be heard when he prays, Scripture reminded him, saying, “Let us weep before the Lord who made us.” Surely he hears those whom he made; surely he cannot fail to care for those whom he made.

But by a higher understanding, and, as I judge, a more useful one, the Holy Spirit saw some who say, or will say, that God made them men, but that they make themselves just. He foresaw them, admonished them, and called them back from this self-exaltation, saying, “He made us, and not we ourselves.” For why did he add, “and not we ourselves,” when it would have been enough to say, “He made us”? Only because he wished to point to the making of which men say, “We made ourselves”: that is, so that we might be just, we made ourselves just by free will; when we were created, we received free choice; so that we may be just, we do it by free choice. Why do we still call on God to make us just, when we have it in our power to make ourselves just? Listen, listen: both the just and the unjust, “He made us, and not we ourselves.” The first man was created in a nature without guilt, in a nature without fault: he was created upright; he did not make himself upright. But what he made himself is well known: falling from the potter’s hand, he was broken. For the one who had made him was ruling him; he chose to desert the one by whom he had been made. God permitted it, as though saying, “Let him desert me, and find himself, and prove by his misery that he can do nothing without me.” In this way, then, God wished to show man what free choice is worth without God. O evil free choice without God! We have experienced what it is worth without God. That is why we have become miserable, because we have experienced what it is worth without God. Having experienced it, then, let us at last learn it, and “come, let us adore him, and fall down before him.” “Come, let us adore and fall down before him, and weep before the Lord who made us,” so that he who made us may remake us, lost through ourselves. See, man was made good, and through free choice man became bad: when will a bad man make a good man by free choice while deserting God? The good man could not keep himself good, and will the bad man make himself good? When he was good, he did not keep himself good; and now that he is bad, does he say, “I make myself good”? What do you make, you who are bad, who perished when you were good, unless he who remains good remakes you?

So “he made us, and not we ourselves.” “But we are his people and the sheep of his pasture.” See, he who made us men made us his people. For when we were created men we were not yet his people. See, my brothers, and pay attention to the words of the psalm itself, to what it referred when it said, “He made us, and not we ourselves.” It said, “He made us, and not we ourselves,” in the sense that we should be his people and the sheep of his pasture. He made us. For pagans too are born, and all the ungodly, all the adversaries of his Church: that they might be born, he made them. For no other god created them. Those who are born of pagans are made by him, created by him; and they are not his people, nor the sheep of his pasture. Nature is common to all; grace is not. Let nature not be thought to be grace; but even if it is thought grace, let it be thought grace because it too was granted gratis. For man, who did not exist, did not merit to exist. If he had merited, he already existed; but he did not yet exist. So there was no one to merit, and yet he was made: not made like cattle, not made like a tree, not made like a stone, but made in the image of the Creator. Who gave this benefit? God, who was, and was from eternity. To whom did he give it? To man, who did not yet exist. He gave, who was; he received, who was not. And who could do this, except him who calls the things that are not as though they were? Of whom the apostle says, “who chose us before the foundation of the world.” He chose us before the foundation of the world: we were made in this world, and the world did not exist when we were chosen. Things beyond words, wonderful things, my brothers! Who would be equal to explaining this? Who could even think what to explain? Those who do not exist are chosen; and the one who chooses does not err, nor does he choose in vain. Yet he chooses, and holds as chosen those whom he will create to be chosen; he holds them in himself, not in their nature, but in his foreknowledge.

So do not be lifted up: we are men; he made us. And we are believers, if indeed we are, when we argue like this against grace; but see, we are believers; and as believers, and as just, since “the just lives by faith”: “He made us, and not we ourselves.” I ask what he made us. You will say, “Men.” That is not what the psalm was speaking of; that we know, that is known, that is plain: we need no great teaching to know that he made us men. But see what it was speaking of: “He made us, and not we ourselves.” What did he make us, if not what we are? But what are we? “But we.” See what we are. What? “His people and the sheep of his pasture.” He made us his people, he made us the sheep of his pasture. He who sent the innocent sheep to be slaughtered made sheep out of wolves. This is grace. Apart from that common grace of nature by which we were made men (and we were not worthy of it, because we did not exist), apart from that grace, this is the greater grace by which we were made his people and the sheep of his pasture, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

But someone says: “We were made through Jesus Christ, even so as to be men.” Yes indeed; the pagans too were made through Jesus Christ. For the pagans were made through Jesus Christ, not so that they might be pagans, but so that they might be men. For who is Jesus Christ, if not “In the beginning was the Word, and the Word was with God, and the Word was God. He was in the beginning with God. All things were made through him”? To him, then, the pagans too owe it that they were created men; and they are to be punished all the more because they abandoned him by whom they were made, and worshiped what they themselves made.

Apart, then, from the grace by which human nature was established (for this is common to Christians and pagans), this is the greater grace: not that we were created men through the Word, but that we were made believers through the Word made flesh. “For there is one God, and one mediator of God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” “In the beginning was the Word”: the man Christ Jesus did not yet exist. “And the Word was with God, and the Word was God.” The world itself did not exist when the Word was God. “All things were made through him,” and “the world was made through him.” So when he made us, so that we might be men, he was not yet man. The apostle commends this grace more highly to Christians when he says, “For there is one God, and one mediator of God and men.” He did not say “Christ Jesus,” lest you think it was said with reference to the Word; but he added “man”: “mediator of God and men, the man Christ Jesus.” What is a mediator? One through whom we may be joined, through whom we may be reconciled: for we lay separated by our own sins, we were in death, we had altogether perished. Christ was not man when man was created; so that man might not perish, he became man.

We are often compelled to argue these things with you against a new heresy that is trying to rise, because we want you to be firm in the good and untouched by evil. For this was their argument when they first began to arise and to argue against grace: attributing much, not to man’s freedom, but in effect to his weakness, and so exalting wretched man as he lies fallen that he cannot rise by the hand stretched out to him from above. Arguing, then, against grace in favor of free choice, they gave offense to devout and Catholic ears. People began to shudder at them, began to avoid them as a sure destruction; it began to be said of them that they argued against grace. And to relieve this odium they found the following device. “I do not,” he says, “argue against the grace of God.” How do you prove it? “By the very fact,” he says, “that I defend free choice, I do not argue against the grace of God.” See the sharpness, but it is glass: it glitters with vanity, but it is broken by truth. Notice how sharply, as it were, they thought out what they wanted to say. “By the very fact,” he says, “that I defend man’s free choice, and say that free choice is sufficient for me to be just, I do not speak without the grace of God.” The ears of the devout pricked up; already whoever hears it begins to rejoice: “Thanks be to God! He does not defend free choice without the grace of God. For there is free choice, but it is worth nothing without the grace of God.” If, then, they defend free choice not without the grace of God, what evil do they say? Explain to us, then, teacher, what grace you mean. “When I say,” he says, “man’s free choice, notice that I say man’s. What next? Who created man? God. Who gave him free choice? God. If then God created man, and God gave man free choice, whatever man can do by free choice, to whose grace is it owed, if not to his who made him with free choice?” And they think this a clever thing to have said.

See, however, my brothers, how they preach that general grace by which man was created, by which we are men: and certainly we are men along with the ungodly, but we are not Christians along with the ungodly. It is this grace by which we are Christians that we want them to preach, this we want them to acknowledge; this is the grace we want, of which the apostle says, “I do not make the grace of God void. For if righteousness is through the Law, then Christ died for nothing.” See what the apostle was speaking of. He spoke of the Law: “If righteousness is through the Law, then Christ died for nothing.” Because righteousness was not from the Law, therefore Christ died, so that those who were not justified by the Law might be justified through faith. “For if a Law had been given,” he says, “that could give life, righteousness would certainly be from the Law” (as we also recalled yesterday); “but Scripture has shut up all things under sin, so that the promise”—a promise, not a prediction: he who promised does it himself—“so that the promise,” he says, “might be given by the faith of Jesus Christ to those who believe.” See in what state the grace of the Savior found us, whom not even the Law could make whole. But why was the Law given, if nature was sufficient? And yet not even the Law could suffice, so weak was nature itself: the Law was given, but not one that could give life. Why then was the Law given? “The Law,” says the apostle, “was given because of transgression”: it was set up because of transgression, to make you a transgressor. Why, to make me a transgressor? Because God knew your pride; he knew that you were saying, “O that there were someone to teach me! O that there were someone to show me!” See, the Law says to you, “You shall not covet.” You came to know the Law saying, “You shall not covet.” Covetousness rose up, which you had not known; for it was within, but it was not known. You began to try to conquer what was within, and what lay hidden appeared. Proud man, through the Law you were made a transgressor: acknowledge grace, and be one who praises it.

But who, you say, gave the Law? For there are vain men, and worse, ungodly men, who say that the Law was given by another, but grace through our Lord Jesus Christ; as though the Law were evil, as though the Law were perverse, but grace upright. And they want to separate the two Testaments in such a way as to say that the Old Testament is from some prince of darkness or other, but the New Testament from the Lord God, the Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Hear the apostle Paul himself. If you think that the Law was given by another, not by God, because through it you were made a transgressor, hear the apostle himself praising the Law: “So the Law,” he says, “is holy, and the commandment holy”; add, “and just”; add further, “and good.” “Did what is good, then,” he says, “become death to me? Far from it: but sin, so that sin might appear.” For sin was there, but sin lay hidden. When did sin lie hidden? When it did not yet suffer you as an adversary. You began to strive, and the one who held you appeared. While you were following, you did not feel the chain; you sought refuge, and the bond appeared; you wanted to flee, and you began to be dragged. Since, then, you began to be dragged, let him help you who is not bound. Who is not bound, except the one who said, “If you have found sin in me, say so”? Who is not bound, except the one who said, “See, the prince of the world is coming, and he will find nothing in me”? Why should he kill me? He will find nothing, since death is justly owed to sin. Why, then, do you die? “So that all may know,” he says, “that I do the will of my Father.” He who is not bound sets free; he who is free among the dead delivers from the dead.

But he himself also sent the Law: the Law through his servant, grace through himself. Consider Elisha in a great and deep mystery, a prophet who foretold by acting, not only by speaking. The son of the woman who was his hostess had died. What did the dead boy signify, if not Adam? It was reported to the holy prophet, who in his prophetic role bore the type of our Lord Jesus Christ. He sent his staff by his servant and said to him, “Go, go, lay it on the dead boy.” He went, like an obedient servant. The prophet knew what he was doing. The servant laid the staff on the dead boy; he did not rise. “For if a Law had been given that could give life, righteousness would certainly be from the Law.” So the Law could not give life. He came himself, the grown man to the little boy, the savior to save, the living to the dead: he came himself. And what did he do? He drew in his youthful limbs, as though emptying himself to take the form of a servant. He drew in his youthful limbs, fitted himself, made small, to the small one, so as to make the body of our lowliness conformed to the body of his glory. And so in this type of Christ, expressed prophetically, the dead was raised, as the ungodly is justified.

Let this grace be preached; this is the grace of Christians, through the man who is Mediator, through him who suffered and was raised, who ascended into heaven and led captivity captive and gave gifts to men. Let this grace, I say, be preached; let the ungrateful not argue against this grace. The prophet’s staff did not suffice for the dead boy: would dead nature itself suffice? And as for the grace by which we were created, although we have hardly ever read it called by this name, yet because it was given gratis, let us confess it to be grace. But let us show you that this grace, by which we are Christians, is greater: pay attention. Before we were created, we merited nothing good; and therefore it was grace by which we were created, when we merited nothing good. If, then, it is a great grace when we merited nothing good, how great a grace is it when we merited so much evil? One who did not yet exist did not merit good; the sinner merited evil as well. The one who was made did not yet exist; but neither had he offended. He did not yet exist, and he was made; he offended, and he is saved. He who did not yet exist hoped for nothing, and he was made; but having fallen, he was expecting damnation, and he was set free. This is the grace through Jesus Christ our Lord. He made us, and before we existed at all he made us; and when we had been made and had fallen, he himself made us just, and not we ourselves. “If then anyone in Christ is a new creation, the old has fallen away, the new has been made.” There was one lump of perdition from Adam, to which nothing but punishment was owed: from it vessels were made for honor, out of the same lump. “For the potter has power over the clay, out of the same lump.” What lump? Certainly it had already perished; certainly just damnation was already owed to that lump. Rejoice that you have escaped: you have escaped the death that was owed, and found the life that was not owed. “The potter has power over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honor, another for dishonor.” But you say, “Why did he make me for honor, and another for dishonor?” What am I to answer? Will you listen to Augustine, you who have not listened to the apostle saying, “O man, who are you to answer back to God?” Two little children are born: if you ask what is owed, both belong to the lump of perdition. But why does one mother carry her child to grace, while another mother, sleeping, smothers hers? Will you tell me what the one deserved who is carried to grace, what the one deserved whom his mother smothers in her sleep? Both deserved nothing good; but “the potter has power over the clay, to make out of the same lump one vessel for honor, another for dishonor.” Do you want to argue with me? Rather, wonder with me, and cry out with me, “O the depth of the riches!” Let us both be afraid, let us both cry out, “O the depth of the riches!” Let us both agree in fear, lest we perish in error. “O the depth of the riches of the wisdom and knowledge of God! How unsearchable are his judgments, and his ways past finding out!” Search the unsearchable, do the impossible, corrupt the incorruptible, see the invisible!

“His judgments are unsearchable”: you have heard it; let it suffice you. “And his ways past finding out. For who has known the mind of the Lord? Or who has been his counselor? Or who first gave to him, and it will be repaid him?” Who first gave, when he received everything gratis? “Who first gave to him, and it will be repaid him?” If the Lord had wished to repay, he would have repaid nothing but the punishment that was owed. They gave nothing, that anything should be repaid them. “For nothing you will save them.” Who first gave to him, as though by the favor of his own merits? Who first gave to him, who got ahead of grace, which is given gratis? If some merits come before grace, it is no longer given gratis, but rendered as a debt. But if it is not given gratis, why is it called grace? “Who then first gave to him, and it will be repaid him? For from him and through him and in him are all things.” What things, surely, if not all the good things that we have received from him, and received so that we might be good? “For every best gift and every perfect gift is from above, coming down from the Father of lights, with whom there is no change.” For you have been changed for the worse: he with whom there is no change comes to your help. “With whom there is not even a shadow of turning”: for you lie in the darkness of your night. All things, then, are from him; no one gave him anything first; let no one demand a debt. “By grace you have been saved through faith, and this not of yourselves, but it is the gift of God.”

“But it troubles me,” you say, “that this one perishes and that one is baptized; it troubles me, it troubles me as a man.” If you want to hear the truth, it troubles me too, because I am a man. But if you are a man and I am a man, let us both listen to the one who says, “O man!” Surely, if we are troubled because we are men, it is human nature itself, weak and feeble, that the apostle addresses when he says, “O man, who are you to answer back to God? Does the thing molded say to him who molded it, Why have you made me like this?” If a beast could speak and say to God, “Why did you make that one a man, and me a beast?”, would you not be justly angry and say, “O beast, who are you to answer back to God?” You too are a man, but before God you are a beast; and would that you were his beast and a sheep of his pasture! Acknowledge the Shepherd’s benefits, and you will not follow the wolves of error. We were wolves: “We too were by nature children of wrath, like the rest”; but the Sheep died, and made us sheep. “Behold the Lamb of God, behold him who takes away the sin,” not of this man or that, but “of the world.” So, my brothers, let us claim nothing for ourselves from the fact that we are something (if indeed we are something in his faith), however much we are; let us claim nothing for ourselves, lest we lose even what we have received. But in what we have received let us give him the glory, let us honor him, so that he himself may rain on his own seeds. What would our land have, if he had not sown? But he also gives the rain; he does not abandon what he has sown. “The Lord will give sweetness, and our land will yield its fruit.” Turning to the Lord, and so on.