§8 The Door to Moral Righteousness Is Shut! (Rom. 3:9–20)
With devastating finality Paul now concludes the long discussion of the guilt of humanity which began in 1:18. The passage falls into three parts: a summation of the argument of 3:1–8 (v. 9); a series of proof texts from the OT on the moral failure of humanity (vv. 10–18); and a conclusion that the law is powerless to save (vv. 19–20). Paul enters the final round against his fellow Jews who suppose that the advantage of the law (3:2) secures favor with God. Since 2:1 he has attacked Jewish presumption to judge Gentile sinners and Jewish pride in Torah and circumcision as their means of salvation. The result of the close and unyielding web of argumentation from 1:18 to 3:20 is that there is no possibility of a moral righteousness before God. In a concluding series of blows the apostle hammers out a chain of quotations from the Torah—the longest in Romans—to evince that “Jews and Gentiles alike are all under sin” (3:9).
3:9 / In Greek verse 9 begins with the same rhetorical question as verse 1, ti oun?, although the NIV translates it slightly differently. This indicates that Paul is returning to the thought of verse 1. Unfortunately the words which follow present a maze of possible interpretations. The chief problem is proechometha (v. 9) which is capable of several renderings. The most literal translation would be, “are we excelled?” The “we” here would mean “Jews,” with the sense, “are we Jews being excelled by the Gentiles?” or, “do the Gentiles have an advantage over [Jews]?” This is the most sensible rendering grammatically, but it is virtually eliminated by the fact that Paul nowhere argues that Gentiles have an advantage over Jews. A second possibility is to understand “we” not in reference to Jews generally, but to Paul personally, thus continuing the thought and grammar of verses 5–8. The sense would be, “are we making excuses for ourselves?” It may be attractive to read the pronoun of verse 9 as a continuation of verses 5–8, but the translation is militated against by two factors. First, the rendering “making excuses for oneself” is a bit forced, given the technical definition of proechō, which means “to excel,” or “be first.” Moreover, nowhere else do we see Paul apologizing for his doctrine of justification. A final possibility is to render the term, “do we (Jews) have an advantage?” This translation fits the context of 3:1ff., indeed it seems demanded by it. Paul has argued that Jews have an advantage in the short run (3:2), but “Not ultimately” (Not at all! is too strong for the Greek ou pantōs). The fly in the ointment of this translation, however, is that the middle, proechometha, must be rendered as an active, proechō, and this occurs seldom elsewhere, if at all. Nevertheless, of the three renderings the last seems the most preferable (or perhaps the least unsatisfactory).
Despite the textual ambiguity of proechometha, the meaning cannot be doubted. Jews do have an advantage in Torah, but it is not an ultimate advantage, for Jews and Gentiles alike are all under sin. Paul’s argumentation all along has led to this conclusion, but with two modifications. First, this is a penultimate and not an ultimate conclusion, i.e., acknowledging the human condition is the prerequisite to the reception of the good news of grace. And second, there is even within his hammering condemnation of human wickedness an element of humility on Paul’s part; as Calvin noted: when Paul recounts the preeminence of the Jews he speaks in the third person, but when he strips them of their advantages he includes himself among them and speaks in the first person (Romans, p. 124).
Paul’s persistence in demonstrating the unrighteousness of Jews is not because of any malice towards them. Paul was himself a Jew who empathized deeply with his people (9:2–5). His argumentation rather has a strategic purpose to show that if the Jew, the best of the lot, cannot make the grade, then no one can. Paul’s case against Jews, in other words, cinches his case against all humanity, for to exclude Jews from salvation on the basis of moral righteousness is to exclude everyone!
This universal guilt and hopelessness is called sin. The noun is introduced here for the first time in Romans (a verb at 2:12), although a full explanation of sin is reserved until 5:12–7:25. Under sin is a crucial motif in Paul. The apostle, of course, believed that persons were responsible for individual transgressions, but such transgressions were only symptoms of an inner grip of evil on the human race. Paul seldom speaks of sins (as individual acts), but rather of sin as a singular nature, which he tends to personify. Sin is an external power which enslaves humanity (6:16), and indeed all creation (8:21). Sin is more than a composite of human evil, more than a simple equation that sin equals the sum of human badness. In Paul’s thinking sin carries two paradoxical and unresolved tensions: people sin willingly, but inevitably. Sin is freely chosen (otherwise it would not be sin), but there is a “gravitational pull” to sin, a tyranny or domination against which humanity is powerless to contend. Humanity, in other words, is not free not to sin. Sin is thus not an occasional slip or mistake, but a personal collaboration with a suprapersonal power (Eph. 2:2) which overshadows and tragically infects the world.
There are powers then which overshadow human life, sin being one of them, though such powers are often less than apparent. Realizing this, the Reformers interpreted under sin spiritually. This passage, says Luther, “does not deal with men as they appear in their own eyes and before other men but as they are before God, where they are all under sin” (Lectures on Romans, p. 86). That Paul regarded sin not solely as bad acts, but as brokenness, fallenness, and spiritual lostness is clear from Romans 14:23, “everything that does not come from faith is sin.”
Ancient rabbis agreed in principle that all people stand under sin, since death is the result of sin. The logic was unassailable: if all die, all must have sinned. Nevertheless, they believed that many virtuous souls had not sinned, and had not died, among them Abraham, Isaac, Jacob, Elijah, Hezekiah, Benjamin, Isaiah, Moses, Aaron, and others. The rabbis understood sin to be proscribed acts that a virtuous person could avoid. Paul, who also was a rabbi, had once shared this opinion, boasting that he was blameless under the law (Phil. 3:6). But Paul the convert understands sin to be a power of fallenness within and over humanity from which no one, Jew or Gentile, is free.
3:10–18 / The assertion that all people (Jews included) are “under sin” is substantiated by “the very words of God” (3:2). It was a common rabbinic practice, also in evidence in the Dead Sea Scrolls, to assemble Scripture passages bearing on a common subject for catechetical purposes or as proof texts for argumentation. Paul may be utilizing a pre-formed list here, but, given the unusually appropriate fit of the list to Paul’s purpose, it is not unlikely that he assembled it himself. The quotations are skillfully pieced together, five passages from Psalms, one from Ecclesiastes, and one from Isaiah. The first section of the mosaic, verses 10–12, charts offenses against God; the second, verses 13–14, sins of speech (cf. James 3:2; Ps. 34:13; Jer. 9:5), and the final section, verses 15–17, offenses and violence done to neighbors. This fearsome barrage of evidence determines that no one is exempt from God’s wrath. There is no one (righteous, etc.) occurs six times in the quotations. The crowning blow of human unrighteousness is that There is no fear of God (v. 18). Failure to fear God eliminates the possibility of knowing God.
The remarkable thing about the list, as Dunn notes, is that originally the passages cited were Jewish indictments of unrighteous Gentiles, in the spirit of 1 Enoch 99:3–4 (Dunn, Romans 1–8, pp. 147–48). In Paul’s hands, however, they no longer function as such. Not only are those who think themselves righteous condemned by their scriptures, they are condemned by their condemnations of others. “You are condemning yourself,” said Paul at 2:1, “because you who pass judgment do the same things.”
Verse 10 is quoted from Ecclesiastes 7:20; verses 11–12 from Psalm 14:2–3; verse 13a, b from Psalm 5:9; verse 13c from Psalm 140:3; verse 14 from Psalm 10:7; verses 15–17 from Isaiah 59:7–8; and verse 18 from Psalm 36:1. All quotations are from the Septuagint (the Greek translation of the Old Testament) rather than from the Hebrew. The progression of evil from throats, tongues, lips in verse 13 corroborates Jesus’ words, “What comes out of a man is what makes him ‘unclean’ ” (Mark 7:20). The Isaiah passage of verses 15–17, a condemnation of Israel’s sins centuries earlier, is a clarion reminder that Paul’s contemporaries were no less guilty than Israel of old. Thus, Jews also stand under the prophetic condemnation of Israel. Calvin notes with typical sobriety that these vices are not conspicuous in any one individual, but are characteristic of human nature. His comment on verse 18 is a fitting summary, “every wickedness flows from a disregard of God” (Romans, pp. 128–29).
3:19–20 / Paul follows the devastating testimony of Holy Scripture with his own conclusion: Now we know that whatever the law says, it says to those who are under the law, so that every mouth may be silenced and the whole world held accountable to God (v. 19). We know, says Paul. There can be no doubt, no one can feign ignorance. If arguments from reason and experience fail (1:18–2:29), then Paul adds the witness of the law, “the very words of God” (3:2). Humanly speaking, all avenues of escape from God’s wrath are sealed off. That Paul refers to the list of quotations as law is somewhat interesting, since none of the quotations actually comes from the Law or Pentateuch. He clearly understands law to mean Scripture in its entirety, law as the sum of the Old Testament (so also John 10:34). The commandments (i.e., vv. 10–18) naturally govern those who are under the law (i.e., Jews). As we argued earlier, if the boast of Jews is silenced, then all mouths are silenced, for no one can claim greater righteousness than they. Thus, the whole world (= Jew and Gentile, v. 9) is held accountable to God and stands under God’s wrath (1:18). This is the final speech for the prosecution. Those who were initially satisfied with their moral code and behavior now find the evidence amassed conclusively and irrevocably against them. Their defense, whether glib or sincere, withers in their throats as the verdict is pronounced.
The conclusion of the discussion of the guilt of humanity in verse 20 introduces themes which will demand further development. No one will be declared righteous in God’s sight by observing the law. This thought results from Psalm 143:2, “for no one living is righteous before you.” The Greek of verse 20 literally reads, “no flesh will be saved.” “Flesh” (Gk. sarx) is a crucial term in Paul. It usually means humanity in weakness and corruptibility, the mortal nature which is the willing instrument of sin, i.e., humanity apart from grace. The expression observing the law is unique to Paul and finds no counterpart in rabbinic literature. The rabbis normally spoke of the “study of Torah,” or simply “commandment,” but Paul emphasizes the doing of Torah, fulfilling its moral requirements.
Heretofore a reader might have concluded that if one fulfilled the law one could be saved. But, in a new slant, verse 20 excludes even this possibility, assuming one could keep the law. Total fulfillment of the law cannot produce salvation. Observing the law cannot remove a person from the cloud of condemnation which results from being “under sin” (v. 9). That is not the way to a restored relationship with the creator, because the law, even if adhered to, is not sufficient to resist the power of sin.
What then is the function of the law? One purpose of the law is to produce a consciousness of sin (v. 20). This too is an insight unique to Paul and unknown to rabbinic Judaism. The justice demanded by the law’s demands cannot be provided by the law. The law provides the knowledge of sin, but no rescue from it. It is diagnosis, not cure.
The statement that through the law we become conscious of sin is not a moralism, i.e., that we should learn from our mistakes. Paul means that in the law we hear our own condemnation! Only when the defendant gives up all hope of defense, all thought of parading his or her own case (= “boasting,” 2:17, 23), only then can that person hear the verdict of the judge. And a surprising verdict it is! The sentence is not justice—getting what one deserves; it is grace—getting what one does not deserve. That is the wholly unexpected news of the gospel to which Paul will now turn.
It is important to understand Paul’s perspective and purpose in Romans 1:18–3:20. It has not been the intent of this frightening diagnosis to force the patient to accept a radical cure. There is no thought in the Christian faith of coercing one into the kingdom of God out of fear of punishment. Rather, the condemnation of human unrighteousness presupposes grace; it is not a prelude to it. The non-believer seldom sees the hollowness of his or her righteousness apart from the light of God’s love and grace. This was true in Paul’s case. Far from being disappointed in himself, prior to his conversion Paul considered himself a moral and righteous individual. It was only after his encounter with the forgiving Lord near Damascus that he looked again into his chest of moral treasures, there to discover fakes and colored glass. “Whatever was to my profit I now consider loss for the sake of Christ” (Phil. 3:7). Thus Paul begins Romans with the word of grace (1:16–17), and only then turns to the revelation of God’s wrath (1:18–3:20). One does not realize how close one came to freezing until one begins to thaw out by the fire!
3:9 / For discussions of the textual problem and translation of v. 1, see BAGD, pp. 705–6; and Cranfield, Romans, vol. 1, pp. 187–91. Dunn’s discussion (Romans 1–8, pp. 146–48) is also helpful, but his decision to follow N. Dahl’s rendering, “What then do we plead in our defense” (variant of option 2), necessitates the omission of ou pantōs, words which are textually secure. Our rendering (“Do we Jews have then an advantage? Not ultimately.”) still seems to do the least violence to the text. It is of historical interest to note that Paul diverged sharply from the rabbis on the question whether Jews have an advantage or not. Paul answers, “Not entirely,” but his contemporaries would have answered, “Absolutely.” The rabbis taught that “All Israelites have a share in the world to come” (m. Sanh. 10.1) and that the Goyim (non-Israelites) were en masse destined for Gehenna. Gentiles were like chaff blown by the wind, like debris underfoot, or garbage for the fire. See Str-B, vol. 3, pp. 139–55.
Adolf Schlatter describes the universality of human guilt in these words: “In everything that Paul says he describes humanity, to which the gospel of Jesus is addressed; in his language we can indeed say that he is describing the world. Those who are gathered in the synagogue are not new people, they are not different people. In the law, to be sure, they possess the teaching which those on the outside of the synagogue do not possess; but the teaching does not change them. Thus it is that just as the activity of humanity opposes divine justice and in the work of evil undercuts it, we find the proof that ‘all people are under sin’ ” (Gottes Gerechtigkeit, p. 124 [my translation]).
For a clear presentation of sin in Pauline theology, see Robert Spivey and D. Moody Smith, Anatomy of the New Testament, 3d ed. (New York: Macmillan, 1982), pp. 366–67.
Paul’s understanding of sin as a dominion of power may raise problems for moderns, not because sin and evil are foreign to us—who in the twentieth century could say that?—but because we are products of a society which believes that human reason and freedom are ultimate truths, beyond which there is no greater power. This premium on reason and freedom arose in the Enlightenment and has been responsible for much human progress, particularly in the natural sciences. But despite this progress, unsettling voices have arisen about their limits and dangers which strike a chord with Paul’s conception of sin. I am referring not primarily to irrational powers, as in the teachings of Freud, or more recently to the powers of addiction or occult phenomena, but to the power of technology, for example, to create both means and ends which supersede moral values, to which Jacques Ellul and others have alluded. Ellul’s ideas are presented cogently in two small books, The Presence of the Kingdom, trans. O. Wyon (New York: Seabury, 1967), and The Betrayal of the West, trans. M. O’Connell (New York: Seabury, 1978). For the rabbinic view of sin, see Str-B, vol. 3, pp. 155–57.
3:10–18 / On the universal sinfulness of humanity, hear Barth’s words: “The whole course of history pronounces this indictment against Itself.… If all the great outstanding figures in history, whose judgements are worthy of serious consideration, if all the prophets, Psalmists, philosophers, Fathers of the Church, Reformers, poets, artists, were asked their opinion, would one of them assert that men were good, or even capable of good? Is the doctrine of original sin merely one doctrine among many? Is it not rather, according to its fundamental meaning, THE Doctrine which emerges from all honest study of history?” (Romans, pp. 85–86).
On the mosaic of quotations, especially verses 10–12 (quoted from Psalm 14:1–3) were typically applied by the rabbis either to Esau or to Rome, two of Israel’s loathsome enemies (see Str-B, vol. 3, p. 157). But Paul applies these verses not to self-righteousness but to self-incrimination (Dunn, Romans 1–8, p. 151). Look into the eyes of your worst enemy, says Paul, and there you will see mirrored your own reflection!
3:19–20 / The argument of 1:18–3:20 is somewhat reminiscent of Job’s argument in 9:3–10 against the caricature of God presented by his accusers. Job’s friends argue that his suffering must be the result of sin, for sin causes suffering. Similarly, Paul’s opponents argue that the law and circumcision secure the favor of God. Both Paul and Job argue for a bigger, less anthropomorphized God, whose purposes are less known and more sovereign, and whose mercy and justice cannot be separated or claimed for some and against others.
Bunyan offers an effective allegory on the inexorable demands of the law in the waylaying of Faithful. See John Bunyan, Pilgrim’s Progress (New York: New American Library, Signet Classics), pp. 69–70.
Themes in v. 20 which Paul will subsequently develop are “Observing the law,” 3:27, 28; 4:2, 6; 9:11; “declared righteous,” 3:24, 26, 28, 30; 4:2, 5; 5:1, 9; 6:7; 8:30, 33; and “through the law we become conscious of sin,” 4:15; 5:13; 7:13.
On the phrase observing the law, see Str-B, vol. 3, pp. 160–61.
On the distinction between the law as a moral requirement but not as a means of salvation, see Achtemeier, Romans, p. 60, and C. Cosgrove, “Justification in Paul: A Linguistic and Theological Reflection,” JBL 104 (4, 1987), pp. 655–64.