Romans 4:16-22
16 For this reason [it is] from faith, in order that [it may be] according to grace, so that the promise may be valid to all the seed, not to that of the Law only, but also to that of the faith of Abraham, who is the father of us all, 17 just as it is written, “I have made you father of many nations,” in the presence of God whom he believed, the God who makes alive the dead and calls the things that are not as [though] they are. 18 Who, against hope upon hope, believed so that he might become father of many nations according to what was said, “in this way shall your seed shall be.” 19 And he did not become weak in faith [when] he considered his own body as good as dead, being about one hundred years old, and the deadness of Sarah’s womb. 20 But with regard to the promise of God he did not waver in unbelief but grew strong in faith, giving glory to God, 21 and being fully convinced that the one who promised is able also to accomplish. 22 Thus, “it was reckoned to him unto righteousness.”
Continuing our study of Romans, we pick up where we left off last week. Paul has just finished arguing that justification is not given on the basis of works, or being circumcised, or having the Law, but on the basis of faith (see last week’s notes for a full discussion). Paul now asserts that this promise comes out of faith so that it may be gracious–that is, not earned. In this way, the promise is not just for those who have the Law, but for all those who share Abraham’s faith. That is, all believers, not just Jewish Christians. That’s why Paul then calls Abraham “the father of us all”–the father of Jewish and Gentile Christians, because the only requirement to be a child of Abraham (i.e., a member of the people of God, and an inheritor of the promise) is faith. Not Law, and not circumcision.
Paul quotes the essence of God’s promise to Abraham: “I have made you father of many nations.” The implication of this promise seems to be that its fulfillment would stretch beyond Abraham’s physical seed. Indeed, for the descendents of Abraham to be as numerous as the sand and the stars, they would have to come from many nations. And these nations would not all be physically descended from Abraham. So Abraham’s faith was ultimately in Christ, since it was God’s plan to fulfill the promise spiritually by means of the Messiah. Though Abraham didn’t know this much of the plan, he believed God for as much as God had revealed to him.
This God, in whose presence Abraham stood and received this amazing promise, is a God who “calls the things that are not as [though] they are.” Literally, the Greek says that God calls the “not being things” (ta mê onta) “as being” (hôs onta). God is able to see things not for what they actually are now, but in terms of what He plans for them. This is not God looking into the future to see what will happen; this is God ordaining the way things will be. The promise to Abraham could not fail to come about, not because God is able to predict the future infallibly, but because God is in sovereign control of the future, and nothing happens outside of His direction.
Abraham believed “against hope upon hope”–this is one way to translate the Greek, but I think the intention is clear. Abraham’s circumstances dictated against hope, like me hoping to win the lottery when I don’t even play the lottery. According to what I see and know, there’s no hope. But Abraham’s hope was not based on his own perception of how things are, but upon the reality of God’s promise to him. So Abraham went against the hope (or hopelessness) of his situation to place his confidence in the sure hope of God’s promise.
Paul asserts that Abraham didn’t become weak in his faith and didn’t waver. But if you look back at Genesis 17:17, we’re told that when God told Abraham he was to have a son, he laughed. He even went so far as to propose God fulfill His promise through Ishmael instead of something as incredible as centenarians having babies. Was Abraham’s laugh and subsequent actions a laugh of joy and acceptance of God’s plan, or was it a laugh of incredulity and doubt? We had divided opinion on this. On one side was the view that Abraham believed solidly from the outset, and laughed with joy at the thought of him and Sarah bringing new life into the world. Thus Abraham’s offer of Ishmael was in ignorance of God’s intention to use the new child as the offspring of promise. Once God told Abraham the plan, Abraham believed. On the other hand, Abraham’s laugh and offer of Ishmael could have been an initial human reaction of incredulity (verse 17) that quickly resolved into faith as soon as the plan was explained (verses 19-21). From that point on, Abraham was solid in his conviction that what God said would come to pass. Whichever view is correct, I think we can be sure that Abraham’s heart was always in the right place. Even if his outward reactions appeared to show doubt, it’s clear that inwardly, his confidence was in God.
Some translations might refer to Sarah’s womb as “barren,” and I think this is perfectly acceptable. However, that translation loses the word play going on in the passage with “life” and “death.” God is the one who is able to make things alive. Abraham’s body was as good as dead, and Sarah’s womb was in a state of deadness (the Greek is literally necrosis, a term which is used medically today). The implication is that God is able to enliven Abraham’s body and Sarah’s womb. (As a side note, since Abraham later had children with Keturah, after Sarah’s death (Genesis 25), this enlivening lasted a few years.)
This test of faith for Abraham served to strengthen his belief in God and His promises, just as muscles are strengthened through tough and vigorous workouts. His faith was in God who brings to completion those things He promises He will do. And Abraham glorified God, thus demonstrating his faith.
Paul finishes this section by quoting again from Genesis 15:6: “it was reckoned to him unto righteousness.” This nicely bookends Paul’s discussion of Abraham. He started the discussion with this quote in 4:3, introducing his argument from Abraham’s example. He now repeats the latter part of the same verse at the close of his argument as if to say “QED–thus it has been demonstrated from Abraham’s example that justification comes by faith, not by works, circumcision, or the Law.”
A thought from the passage: are you a Christian with non-Christian family members? If so, does it sometimes feel like witnessing to them is hopeless? As if you’re getting nowhere? While we don’t know who God intends to save, we know that He has promised to save, and He is able to save completely and without fail. While we should always take the opportunities the Lord provides for witnessing to friends and family, we should also bear in mind that their salvation is in God’s hands. Our prayer should always be that God would save, and that we would rest in Him, trusting that He is faithful to accomplish all that He intends to do.
Here’s a question for your last comments, which also happen to be how the discussion was started on Sunday:
How does one appropriately deal with measuring and acting upon the belief/unbelief of others?
In some cases it’s obvious, the person in question outright says “I do not believe in God” or what have you. For them, easy answer: speak truth, speak the gospel, love, etc…. But in others, it’s hard to be sure. This gets into tricky territory which I’m not sure about (which is why I have the question about it I suppose), but this particularly comes up with reference to Catholics. I grew up with a great number of Reformed believers who genuinely believe and made their opinions clear that Catholics were not Christians. They have the whole faith/works and redemption thing all wrong, they misunderstand the efficacy of Jesus’ death on the cross, and frankly, the whole Mary and Purgatory bit is just weird, no matter how cool Dante is. On the other hand I have a number of Catholic friends who, while some of their beliefs differ a bit from my own, I have no doubt are true believers and are saved. Also, I’ve gathered a great deal more spiritual guidance from the writings of G.K. Chesterton (a Catholic) than from any reformed theologian or writer I can think of.
So, the question becomes: how do you judge whether someone is saved? The answer I’ve received before is: you don’t, you can’t, and you shouldn’t. That’s God’s territory, and it’s beyond our understanding and judgement. To do so also invariably leads to the making of problematic check lists for salvation, which is simply not the way it works….I think….Yet, inevitably, we make assumptions. Indeed, don’t our assumptions about the state of an individual’s soul determine our actions, whether we’d like them to or not? Ought we to just do our best and not speak our judgments too loudly?Perhaps the answer is simply that these judgments are indeed not our place, and that the answer for how we act towards others invariably remains: Speak truth in love, preferably over a good beer or coffee.
You’re right, Andrew, that this is not an easy question, at least in some circumstances. First, I would want to distinguish between what the Roman Church teaches as official doctrine, and what individual Roman Catholics might believe, because, as I’m sure you’re aware, these can be very different. If we take Trent and Vatican II to be official statements of the Roman Church with regard to doctrine, then I think it’s clear that while she is right with regard to some doctrinal truths (e.g., monotheism, the deity of Christ, the Trinity), she is completely in error on what Paul certainly considered to be one of the fundamental Christian truths (as we are reading in Romans): Justification by Faith Alone. Since Rome denies the very heart of the gospel message, I don’t think we can consider the Roman Catholic church to have the gospel. This means, therefore, that we cannot honestly consider anyone trusting in the teachings of Rome to be saved. They need the gospel. They are not co-laborers in the gospel mission; they are part of the mission field.
Saying that, I think there are people within the Roman Catholic church who, while they identify themselves as Roman Catholic, actually believe in the fundamental truths of the gospel, including Justification by Faith Alone. In this case, I think we can say that it is possible to be a Roman Catholic and be saved, but these people are, in fact, bad Catholics, since they oppose the official teaching of the Roman church. I would also expect that once such a person becomes enlightened as to the teachings of Rome on these subjects, they would want to leave and seek fellowship in a more like-minded church.
I know there are moves within the church at the moment to unite with Catholics because of our agreement on many social and moral issues. But I think we do our Catholic friends a disservice if we overlook the critical doctrinal differences between us. These are not optional doctrines, and if we truly love Roman Catholics, we would sooner want to be assured of their salvation that keep quiet for the sake of “unity.”
To the practical question: how do you know if someone is saved? I think it’s true to say you can’t read someone’s heart–only the Lord knows for sure. And that goes as much for Roman Catholics as it does for people we sit next to in church each week. If we go to church with them, and they appear to be knowledgeably committed to the church (e.g., they have gone through some kind of inquirers class and become members), then I think we can have a fair degree of certainty. Other than that, you watch their life, their conversation, and get to know them and what they believe. And, as you suggest, you watch your own life and doctrine, so that there is a consistency between what you believe and what you live. If there are differences between you and the other person with regard to doctrine and practice, these are bound to come up eventually. Hopefully at that time, you have developed a relationship with the person that gives you the opportunity to discuss those differences and share the gospel.
On the whole, though, knowing what Romans 3 says about our default spiritual state, I would tend to consider people to be guilty until proven innocent. I know it sounds negative and perhaps even a little harsh, but, again, I don’t think we do anyone any favors long-term if we treat them as if they are in no need of a physician, when in fact they are terminally sick.
I hope that helps! Feel free to follow up.
Also, I thought the comments on Sunday about the continuation (or not) of the Catholic vs. the Roman Catholic Church were very interesting. I have met and talked to several Catholics who began as Protestants (Both were Episcopal-ish I believe) but then grew very disillusioned with the troubling fragmentation of the Protestant Church and so joined the Catholic Church as a means of seeking after Spiritual and Ecclesiastical unity. Thoughts?
What many don’t see is that there is a lot of fragmentation within the Roman Catholic church too. For example, Mel Gibson is what is known as a sede vacantist (or sedeprivationist). They believe that every Pope since, I think, Vatican I, is illegitimate, since they have all caved to modernist trends (including the reading of the Mass in English as opposed to Latin). I believe Gibson even built his own church. There are also factions of the Roman Catholic church that are more liberal than others. The illusion of unity comes from the fact that Rome has a central governing authority that can give you the official position of the Church on any number of topics. This body also determines which doctrines are dogmas of the church (i.e., doctrines you have to believe to be a good Catholic), and which are optional. They have the power to open the Treasury of Merit and credit the merit of saints, who have died with more merit than they needed to escape Purgatory, to your account. People take comfort in this, especially if they have gone through doctrinal disputes, or church splits. Isn’t it nice to not have to think about what’s right and wrong, what’s true doctrine and what’s not? Just leave it up to the Pope and his Cardinals to set the agenda, and you can just get on with your life.
Hopefully you see the flaw in this thinking. It’s substituting comfort for truth. We were never promised an easy life as Christians. I think the last time there was true, complete, and full unity within the Christian church was the Day of Pentecost in Acts 2. But if it weren’t for doctrinal struggles within the church, we wouldn’t have The Apostles’ Creed, the Nicene Creed, The Westminster Confession, and all the other succinct statements of biblical truth around which we can unite. Heck, we wouldn’t have half the New Testament, since most of the epistles were born out of church disputes of one kind or another!
With regard to divisions within, for want of a better term, “true” churches (I hesitate to use the term Protestant, since that would include denominations that are, frankly, apostate), I actually think denominations are a blessing. We may agree with our Pentecostal brethren on all the essential truths of the Christian faith; but put us in a worship service together and I think there would be serious discomfort on both sides. Denominations allow us to keep the peace between us by letting us worship separately.
Again, I hope these thoughts are helpful.