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§33 The Strong and the Weak (Rom. 14:1–12)

The general exhortation on agapē in chapters 12–13 proceeds now to a specific discussion of the “strong” and “weak” in 14:1–15:13. Paul divides the entire unit into three subsections. In the present section he argues that self-righteous judgments are divisive in the body of Christ; in 14:13–23 he teaches that responsibility for the other takes priority over individual rights; and he concludes in 15:1–13 with the servant role of Christ as the example for behavior within the Christian fellowship.

Although Paul was addressing a particular problem (or set of problems) in Rome, he frames the discussion in a general way, perhaps because he does not have firsthand knowledge of the situation in Rome and does not wish to appear presumptuous, but more likely because the problem was clear enough to all concerned and needed no rehearsing. Even though Paul had yet to set foot in the capital, he cannot have been uninformed about events there. He had recently worked in Corinth with Aquila and Priscilla who, along with all Jews, had been expelled from Rome by Claudius not long before (Acts 18:1–2). The lengthy list of names in chapter 16 testifies that he had many acquaintances in Rome from his contacts on the mission field. On another occasion Paul had received direct inquiries from his followers in Corinth (1 Cor. 1:11), and his advice here may be the result of something similar on the part of the Romans.

Paul frames the discussion in terms of the “strong” and “weak,” terms which refer not to character or conviction, but to faith, and thus faith determines the discussion. It is clear that dietary regulations played a large part in the problem. One person’s faith allowed the consumption of anything, another’s restricted the diet to vegetables (vv. 2–3). The same seems to have been true with regard to drinking wine (14:21) and to the observance of holidays and festivals (vv. 5–6). The general impression is that persons of weaker faith rather scrupulously observed these matters, whereas those of stronger faith felt themselves free from such observances.

Who were the “strong” and “weak”? We cannot know for certain, but it appears that the weak refer to Jewish converts who continued to accept the yoke of the law, whereas the strong were largely Gentile Christians whose faith freed them from the law. This identification has been challenged by some recent interpreters who note that first-century Jews were not forbidden from eating meat and drinking wine. While this is true, we know from 1 Corinthians 8 and 10 that many Jews and Jewish Christians living in the Diaspora avoided eating meat for fear that it had been sacrificed to idols, which would violate the first commandment (“ ‘You shall have no other gods before me,’ ” Deut. 5:7). They also may have avoided wine for the same reason, since it may have been used in libations to pagan deities. Or it may have been a practical way of separating themselves from the excessive drinking, carousing, and orgies common in Gentile regions. Moreover, despite what some commentators say, Paul’s advice in 1 Corinthians and Romans is quite similar on this matter. In both instances he appeals to the motive of agapē (Rom. 14:15; 1 Cor. 8:1) and warns not to offend the conscience of the weak (Rom. 14:13; 1 Cor. 8:9). Although the discussion of 14:1–15:13 is couched in general terms, it still bears a close resemblance to Jewish-Gentile tensions familiar in the NT as a whole (Acts 15:1–21; Gal. 4:10; 1 Cor. 8:1–13; 10:1–22; Col. 2:16–23?). Immediately following the crux of the argument in 15:7 Paul explicitly identifies Jews and Gentiles (15:8–9), whose relationship, of course, is one of the overarching themes in Romans.

The presumption that Paul is thinking of Jewish-Gentile tensions beneath the language of the strong and weak is reinforced by our reconstruction of the origin of the epistle (see Introduction). In A.D. 49 the Emperor Claudius expelled all Jews from Rome (Acts 18:2) due to troubles that were aroused by a certain “Chrestus,” according to Suetonius (Claudius 25.4). Whether “Chrestus” was a reference to Christ (Latin: “Christus”) cannot be certain, but it is not improbable that it was. If so, the troubles among Jews may have been related to the preaching of Jesus as Messiah in the Roman synagogues. Expulsion of Jews also would have included Jewish Christians, leaving Christian congregations in Rome under the auspices of Gentile Christians who were free to develop their understanding of the gospel apart from Torah. When Claudius died in A.D. 54 and the edict was rescinded, Jewish Christians would have returned to Rome with their more legalistic understanding of faith. It is not difficult to imagine the strains which their reintegration must have placed on congregations that had been under Gentile leadership for several years, and which, even under the best of circumstances, found understanding and tolerance of Jewish cultic laws in short supply.

These circumstances (or something similar) appear to lie beneath the surface of 14:1–15:13. Some doubt, of course, necessarily remains about the exact conditions which Paul is addressing, but there is no doubt about his advice. To be sure, Paul counts himself among the strong (15:1), but he does not commend the strong as the ideal or demean the weakness of believers whose faith does not permit them certain freedoms which the gospel allows. There is a greater issue at stake than strength or weakness in faith, and that is the danger of judgments from both sides regarding matters that are not essential for salvation. The weak judge the strong for what they believe to be illicit uses of freedom; the strong despise the weak for their lack of freedom. Each side judges the other from its own conscience in an attempt to compel the other to its opinion. Thus a great pitfall imperils the unity of Christ’s body. The issue, in Ernst Gaugler’s words, is the lack of “reverence for the conscience of the other” (Der Römerbrief, vol. 2, p. 317). The Reformers called these non-essentials adiaphora, or matters about which Christians may differ without endangering their salvation. There are, of course, far more adiaphora than there are diapheronta (2:18), or essentials of faith. Understanding this, Paul makes no attempt to take sides. Rather, in the irenic spirit of Second Isaiah (cf. 40:11), he exhorts his readers not to judge fellow Christians on points which from God’s perspective are not of ultimate importance. “Accept one another, then, just as Christ accepted you, in order to bring praise to God” (15:7).

14:1 / Paul begins with a word to the strong: Accept him whose faith is weak, without passing judgment on disputable matters. J. D. G. Dunn suggests that Paul’s use of the singular may refer to Jewish Christians who were trickling back to Rome in ones or twos after Claudius’ death (Romans 9–16, p. 798). Paul admonishes the strong not to gang up against weaker believers or to treat them condescendingly. The key issue, after all, is faith. Weak in faith does not mean lack of faith, but rather, as the following examples show, a lack of “knowledge” (as Paul says in 1 Cor. 8:10). The weak, who have not (yet) thought through the full implications of the faith, attempt to impose their doubts on the strong to prevent them from a full exercise of the Christian liberty that their faith allows them. The strong are enjoined to welcome the weak not for purposes of settling accounts with them or of trying to show them the folly of their beliefs. They are charged to accept them genuinely for what they are—as fellow Christians.

An acceptance that is predicated on converting another to one’s own opinion in such matters is coercive. It is an unlovely love rather than Christian love, for agapē “is not self-seeking” (1 Cor. 13:5). The middle voice of the Greek verb translated as accept suggests a genuine embracing of the weak, not a reluctant toleration. Had not Jesus taught that his Father would clothe those “of little faith” (Matt. 6:30), and, in speaking of little children, that “the kingdom of God belongs to such as these” (Mark 10:14)? This is no less true of the weak in Rome. Passing judgment on disputable matters simply exalts the strong and humiliates the weak. It is an exercise of knowledge (1 Cor. 8:1) rather than of faith. Knowledge creates gulfs; faith and love build bridges. To accept the weak is to accept Christ, for Christ comes to us incognito, as one despised and rejected, as one from whom men turn their faces (Isa. 53:3), as one who “was rich, yet for your sakes … became poor, so that you through his poverty might become rich” (2 Cor. 8:9).

14:2–3 / Clean and unclean foods were an issue of contention in the early years of Christianity when the church was comprised of both Jewish and Gentile Christians. One man’s faith allows him to eat everything, but another man, whose faith is weak, eats only vegetables (v. 2). It was common knowledge that in dietary customs, as in morals, Jews were far more scrupulous than were Gentiles (Acts 15:20ff.). The gulf between them, in fact, widened in the post-Maccabean period and in the Diaspora, where kosher observance became an important means of maintaining and asserting Jewish identity. But what one ate was of less concern to Paul than the judgments that arose from eating—pride and contempt from the “strong,” censure and condemnation from the “weak.” To both sides Paul applies the principle that God has accepted the person whom you condemn (v. 3). How then can believers presume to pass judgment on one whom God has already accepted?

The NT warns of the damaging consequences of human judgments, and as a rule it commands believers not to judge others (Matt. 7:1ff.; 1 Cor. 4:5; James 4:11). This ought not be construed as moral indifference, however. The universal and persistent cry of the prophets for justice (e.g., Amos 5:24), the Baptist’s judgment against Antipas’ adultery (Mark 6:17), Jesus’ judgments of Pharisaic abuses (Matt. 23), and Paul’s judgment against sexual immorality in Corinth (1 Cor. 5:1ff.) are clear evidence that biblical faith decisively rejects injustice and immorality wherever they occur. The church is obliged to be rigorous with itself and discerning toward the world in the interest of both personal and social righteousness. But in making such judgments Christians must be aware that they too stand under God’s judgment. This is the meaning of verse 12. An attitude of superiority stems from blindness toward one’s own faults, and results in hardness toward the faults of others. When Christians must judge, they judge only as fellow sinners. To think that they are anything other than that, or that they are exempt from the faults (or similar ones) which they see in others, is to fall victim to self-righteousness, which is what Paul condemns in 2:1ff. and here. Such judgments, to be sure, play a role only in the realm of the diapheronta, i.e., where moral and theological truths are at stake. At points of adiaphora, or non-essentials, where no such issues are at stake, Paul has but one word: when God’s acceptance of the other is not in question, then human judgments have no place.

14:4 / Paul intensifies his appeal by shifting to the second person singular, Who are you to judge someone else’s servant? If he is consistent in his word usage, he is speaking here of the weak judging the strong. In 14:1–12 two different words occur for the judgments of the strong and weak. The problem with the strong is that they “look down on” the weak (vv. 3, 10). The Greek word behind this translation (exouthenein) means “to despise or disdain.” The problem with the weak, on the other hand, is that of “judging” (Gk. krinein, vv. 3, 4, 5, 10). The predominance of the latter verb in 14:1–12 suggests that Paul is primarily concerned with the problem of the weak. We might add that this is the same verb (krinein) which appeared in 2:1ff. Paul, therefore, sees a parallel tendency among his Jewish kinsfolk in their judgments of Gentiles in society and their judgments of Gentile-Christians in the church.

In an effort to expose the error of such judgments Paul turns to a master-slave analogy. Its purpose is to remind the scrupulous weaker believer of the proper lines of authority. It is not the weaker believer’s (or anyone’s) conscience to which the fellow believer is obliged, but to God. A slave is accountable to his or her master, not to a fellow slave. And he will stand, regardless of what the fellow slave may think or say, for the Lord is able to make him stand. A Christian is defined not by what others think, but by what God thinks. God does not desire sameness and uniformity within the body. God frees believers from the consciences of others (even of other believers) and enables them to be transformed to the image of Christ. “It is for freedom that Christ has set us free. Stand firm, then, and do not let yourselves be burdened again by a yoke of slavery” (Gal. 5:1). There are, of course, limits to Christian freedom (e.g., Gal. 5:16–21), but the matters under discussion fall well within those limits.

14:5–6 / To say that the adiaphora are not essential for salvation is not to say that they are of no importance at all. All circumstances in life, the ordinary no less than the extraordinary, provide tests and opportunities of faith. The observance of days is a case in point. One man considers one day more sacred than another; another man considers every day alike (v. 5). This verse presents a twofold problem for the interpreter not only because the reference to days is vague, but because the entire verse is less clear in Greek than in the NIV. The sensitive nature of the judgments under consideration, coupled with its evident familiarity to the Romans, dictated that a tactful allusion to it (as opposed to an explicit reference) was the better part of judgment on Paul’s part. This being the case, we are probably correct in assuming that Paul is referring to Jewish calendric observations, perhaps the regular Monday and Thursday fast days, perhaps the Sabbath and various feast days, or perhaps even, as Schlatter suggests, the debate over the shift from Saturday to Sunday as the day of worship in Christian churches (Gottes Gerechtigkeit, p. 371).

Again, without taking sides on the matter, Paul employs a ruling principle as he did on dietary matters above (v. 3). Each one should be fully convinced in his own mind (v. 5). Each must act with a clear conscience in everything. In matters where there is no specific guidance, each person must be persuaded that the manner in which he or she acts is in accordance with God’s will. The Christian can know if a given action is pleasing in God’s sight by committing it to the Lord with thanksgiving. Bengel is right: “thanksgiving sanctifies all actions, however outwardly different” (Gnomon, vol. 3, p. 176). Even the simplest of deeds must be dedicated to God, indeed every thought taken captive in obedience to Christ (2 Cor. 10:5). Whoever eats or refrains from eating, or observes special days or does not observe them for the sake of conscience alone, attests that conscience is the final arbiter in such matters. But in relinquishing a given action to God in thanksgiving, the believer is granted peace and freedom, for one cannot dedicate a course of action thankfully to God about which one is in doubt. The rule in life’s exciting (if sometimes perplexing) drama, therefore, is to be united in things essential for faith, tolerant in things non-essential, and wise in knowing the difference between them. All things are to be committed thankfully to God.

14:7–9 / In vintage Pauline fashion, the apostle now rises above the mundane issues which launched the discussion in the first place and soars poetically on a thermal current of praise to the all-sufficient lordship of Christ. William Ernest Henley may have been convinced of his “unconquerable soul,” and that his head, though bloody, remained unbowed, that he was the “master of his fate and the captain of his soul” (see “Invictus”), but Paul is convinced of the all-sufficiency of Jesus Christ, and of his possession by Christ, in both life and death. We are not, as Henley boasts, autonomous beings, for none of us lives to himself alone and none of us dies to himself alone (v. 7). Our culture may teach that individualism and self-fulfillment are the sole guarantors of happiness, but Paul exults not in who we are, but in whose we are, for we belong to the Lord (v. 8).

Since our lives belong to him, we are not our own (see also 1 Cor. 6:19). We cannot (and do not, in fact) live to ourselves. We are to live for the one to whom we belong. This simple truth forms the bedrock of all Christian ethics, for ethics constitutes the visible side of our relationship with Christ, in which his lordship is manifested (e.g., Eph. 4:1). The one who gave his life without reserve for us is worthy of our lives without reserve for him. In life and death we are his. Not only in physical life and death are we his, but in all life.

14:10–12 / In light of this Paul returns to the issue at hand, the weak who judge and the strong who look down on. You, then, why do you judge your brother? Or why do you look down on your brother? (v. 10). In the original Greek the you is again singular, and thus direct and emphatic. Since we all must stand before God’s judgment seat (v. 10), it is only there (and not in individual conscience or preference) where judgment takes place. This idea is repeated in the three final verses of this section. God alone is judge (cf. Matt. 12:36).

We are what we are only as we stand before God. Before the almighty Judge we shall be revealed for what we always have been. “Every knee will bow before me; every tongue will confess to God” (v. 11; see Isa. 49:18; 45:23; Phil. 2:10–11). This quotation was a standard proof text of the rabbis for the inevitability of the last judgment, and no less so for the rabbi from Tarsus. On that day all pretense will be dispelled, all moral judgments and altruistic pronouncements will be exploded as self-serving masks of pride, all gifts and sacrifices will be seen in the light of their real motives, all strivings and hopes and goals will be judged only from the perspective of whatever faith and love inspired them. Each of us will give an account of himself to God (v. 12). How stark and final is this word each! Before God each individual must give an account—not of his credits and achievements, but of himself!

There will be no one to vouch for us—except Jesus Christ! There we shall be like Peter who, having betrayed his Lord and deceived his friends, prayed the simplest of all prayers, “ ‘Lord, you know all things’ ” (John 21:17). We cannot know all things about ourselves, much less about others. The fact that we must all stand naked before the judgment seat of God is a bracing reminder not to take the judgment seat against another person. We relinquish the cause of judgment to Christ the merciful, for he is the incarnation of the God who causes us—and our fellow believers—to stand.