← Contents Romans 14:13–23

Romans 14:13–23

THEREFORE LET US stop passing judgment on one another. Instead, make up your mind not to put any stumbling block or obstacle in your brother’s way. 14As one who is in the Lord Jesus, I am fully convinced that no food is unclean in itself. But if anyone regards something as unclean, then for him it is unclean. 15If your brother is distressed because of what you eat, you are no longer acting in love. Do not by your eating destroy your brother for whom Christ died. 16Do not allow what you consider good to be spoken of as evil. 17For the kingdom of God is not a matter of eating and drinking, but of righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit, 18because anyone who serves Christ in this way is pleasing to God and approved by men.

19Let us therefore make every effort to do what leads to peace and to mutual edification. 20Do not destroy the work of God for the sake of food. All food is clean, but it is wrong for a man to eat anything that causes someone else to stumble. 21It is better not to eat meat or drink wine or to do anything else that will cause your brother to fall.

22So whatever you believe about these things keep between yourself and God. Blessed is the man who does not condemn himself by what he approves. 23But the man who has doubts is condemned if he eats, because his eating is not from faith; and everything that does not come from faith is sin.

Original Meaning

Don’t Be a Stumbling Block (14:13–16)

THE COMMAND THEREFORE let us stop passing judgment on one another” is transitional, summing up the point Paul has made in 14:1–12 and preparing for what follows. (Paul may again here be quoting Jesus, who taught, “Do not judge, or you too will be judged” [Matt. 7:1].1) Both those who are weak and those who are strong in faith—that is, those who have scruples and those who do not—are to accept one another as fellow members of Christ’s body.

Paul plays on the Greek verb krino as he moves from the first part of verse 13 to the second. In the opening exhortation, this verb means “pass judgment,” but in the second part it means “decide, determine” (NIV “make up your mind”). Turning specifically to the strong, Paul warns them about putting “any stumbling block or obstacle” in the way of another believer. The vivid imagery of the “stumbling block” (proskomma) comes from the Old Testament (see esp. Isa. 8:14, quoted in Rom. 9:32); the same is true of the word skandalon (NIV “obstacle”). It refers literally to a trap, but was used widely in the LXX to refer to the cause of one’s spiritual downfall (see esp. Lev. 19:14); it has this same sense throughout the New Testament (e.g., Matt. 13:41; 18:7; Rom. 9:33; 11:9; 16:17; 1 Peter 2:8). Paul’s point is clear: Those who pride themselves on being strong should display their spiritual maturity by doing everything they can to avoid bringing spiritual downfall to a brother or sister.

In a deft rhetorical move, Paul tries to get the strong to listen to him by conceding that they are right on the basic issue: “No food in unclean in itself” (v. 14). “Unclean” translates koinos (lit., common), which Jews used to describe things that, by virtue of their contact with the ordinary, secular world, were considered to be defiled (see, e.g., 1 Macc. 1:47, 62; Mark 7:2, 5; Acts 10:14, 15, 28; 11:8, 9; Heb. 10:29). In other words, Paul emphasizes that all food is kosher. He follows the lead of Jesus, whose teaching about “true defilement” had the same import (Mark 7:19; cf. also Acts 10:9–23, 28).

But while the strong have the theory right, they must come to grips with the practice. Although God now pronounces all foods to be kosher, people who have always believed that avoiding certain foods is necessary to maintain their holiness are probably unable immediately to internalize this new perspective. They may not be convinced—at least emotionally and psychologically—that they can eat anything. For them certain foods are still “unclean.”

Having explained how food can bring spiritual downfall to a person, Paul moves on in verse 15 to show that this is just what the strong are doing to the weak. Their eating food that weak believers feel convinced is unclean “distresses” (lypeo, to cause pain) them. More than that, it may even “destroy” (apollymi) them. This language is very strong. Some interpreters want to mitigate its strength by suggesting that apollymi refers to the weak Christian’s own self-condemnation. But when Paul uses this verb with a personal object, it always means “bring to ultimate spiritual ruin” (Rom 2:12; 1 Cor. 1:18; 8:11; 10:9, 10; 15:18; 2 Cor. 2:15; 4:3, 9; 2 Thess. 2:10). In other words, the cavalier attitude of the strong may lead to the weak believer’s damnation.

How? Paul does not explain, but there are two possibilities. (1) The “peer pressure” brought by the example of the strong believers may lead the weak believer to eat what he or she is still convinced is unclean, and so violate his or her conscience. Paul suggests again in verse 23 that a person “is condemned” when he or she eats while harboring doubts about whether it is proper.

(2) The strong believers’ flaunting of their freedom to eat all food may so offend conservative Jewish Christians that they are driven from their faith altogether. Verse 16 perhaps supports this idea, since the “good” likely refers to the freedom believers enjoy. That freedom, Paul claims, can be considered an evil (lit., it will be “blasphemed”) when it is abused and others are harmed because of it. Whatever the case, the strong are not acting out of love. Christ has given his life for these weak believers, and the strong are unwilling even to give up some food.

Bridging Contexts

TRADITION! TEVYE’S FAMOUS cry “Tradition!” in Fiddler on the Roof embodies an attitude shared by almost all people in every century. All of us have certain traditions we maintain that serve to link us with past generations and to bind us tightly with other people in our own social or religious group. We often do not even know where such traditions come from.

I am reminded of a story my pastor, Todd Habegger, tells. In a family he knows, a ham always had an inch or so sliced off from one side before it was put in the oven. He asked why this was done. The woman cooking the ham replied, “Because my mother always prepared ham that way.” With her interest stimulated, she in turn asked her mother about the ham. Her mother said, “Because my mother always prepared ham that way.” When she then asked her great-grandmother about it, she laughed and explained: “The oven in our first home was so small that a whole ham would not fit into it. So I had to cut off part of it.”

Most of us probably have better reasons to maintain traditions. But, understandable or not, we all have them, and they have great value in giving us a sense of identity. We understand the issues in Romans 14 and their application to our own day better by fully recognizing the power of tradition. The Jews who lived in Rome in Paul’s day were especially in need of identity-reinforcing traditions. They were a minority religious group trying to survive and preserve their identity in the midst of a pluralistic and often hostile environment. Like many other Jews in the centuries after the Exile, they put great emphasis on some of the religious traditions that helped to preserve their identity and to keep them separate from the world around them.

Faced with both persecution and dispersion, Jews magnified Old Testament-based traditions such as circumcision, the avoidance of unclean food, and the observance of ritual days, especially the Sabbath. We should not, therefore, be surprised that it was just these issues that repeatedly surfaced as points of tension between many Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians. Theology, of course, played a big role. The group of Jewish Christians known as Judaizers, for instance, argued that God’s covenant with Abraham and its subsequent restatement under Moses made circumcision and obedience to the law essential components of what it meant to belong to God. Paul disagreed, as he reveals in Galatians.

But other Jewish Christians undoubtedly approached these issues from less of a theological or even theoretical perspective. They had been taught by parents and peers that certain practices were essential for all good Jews. Their acceptance of Jesus as their Messiah expanded their horizons, revealing to them that God had brought about a new era in salvation history in which Gentiles could join with them in worshiping the one true God. And, unlike the Judaizers, many of them acknowledged that the Gentiles did not need to follow those customs peculiar to Jews. Yet they had a hard time understanding why they personally should not continue to follow the rules they had been taught since childhood.

Even those who agreed in theory that the rules were no longer necessary probably had difficulty discarding what was so integral to their cultural and religious identity. These were traditions, and it is not always easy to throw them overboard, however persuasive the arguments for their abandonment might be. From his own background Paul knew well how powerful tradition was among the Jews. He sympathized with Jewish Christians who found it difficult to abandon overnight what was so ingrained in them. Thus, he wants the other Christians in Rome to “cut them some slack.”

But tradition is not confined to Jews or to the ancient world. Traditions are alive and well, and modern people are just as much affected by them. In contextualizing Romans 14, then, we ought to take modern as well as ancient traditions into account. We must realize that people in our own day who accept the good news are embedded in cultures and religions with their own traditions and that those traditions will not always be easy to give up. To be sure, tradition is never an excuse for sin. Paul unapologetically calls on new converts to turn away from any traditions contrary to God’s revealed will. But many traditions are not clearly sinful, and when this is the case, Romans 14 encourages us to take a slow and loving approach.

Theology, exegesis, and eternal security. Romans 14:15 is another one of those warning texts that create problems for those of us who believe in the perseverance of the saints (see comments on 11:21–22). Our final conclusions will again reflect our understanding of the overall biblical witness on this matter. A straightforward exegesis of the NIV seems to lead to the conclusion that a genuine Christian can lose his or her faith and be lost forever. Paul calls the person a “brother for whom Christ died.” That person, he claims, can be “destroyed” by the uncaring attitudes of other believers.

As we noted above, some interpreters try to get around the problem by understanding “destroy” to mean the spiritual grief and self-condemnation that the weak believer experiences when she adopts, against her conscience, the practices of the strong.8 But, as we also pointed out, Paul usually uses the verb “destroy” to refer to eternal damnation. A more promising approach is to ask the question whether the person Paul refers to here is truly a Christian. The NIV “brother” is a paraphrase; there is no adelphos in the Greek. To be sure, the word does occur earlier in the verse, and it may be legitimate to bring the word over into this last statement. But the matter is not as clear as the NIV suggests.

Of course, if one believes in the doctrine of limited atonement, the issue is settled. Those who hold this view insist that Christ died only for the elect. “One for whom Christ died” then must be a Christian. But I am not sure that limited atonement is a biblical teaching, so this is not decisive for me.

When all legitimate qualifications are allowed for, however, I still think the text, on its own, could suggest that genuine Christians can lose their salvation forever. But the text is not “on its own.” As a believer in the truthfulness and coherence of all of Scripture, I must bring to bear on this text what I see the Bible teaching elsewhere on the matter of a believer’s eternal security. I still tend toward the opinion that texts teaching the finality and therefore unchangeableness of a believer’s salvation in Christ are clearer and more dominant than those warning texts that may suggest the opposite.

Of course, I must always try to let each new “problem” text influence my view of what the Bible teaches. To simply impose my theology on every new text without sincerely letting that text have an impact on that theology is the epitome of eisegesis and a recipe for stagnation. Because we must be open to new truth that God may reveal to us through his Word, our theological conclusions must always be tentative and subject to change.

Contemporary Significance

WHILE 15:1–13 REINFORCES Paul’s plea for tolerance, all the key points he makes on the issue are now before us. This, then, is a good place to talk about the significance of his teaching for the contemporary church.

Dealing with the adiaphora. To begin, we must insist again that Paul’s advice in this chapter can only be applied to issues that are similar to the ones he is dealing with here. As we showed in our discussion of 14:1–12, eating meat, drinking wine, and observing Jewish holy days belong in the category of the adiaphora: things neither commanded nor prohibited to Christians. Extending Paul’s plea for tolerance to other issues is both wrong and dangerous.

In an approach typical of our times, a few interpreters have turned to Romans 14 as evidence that professing Christians, whatever their exact beliefs, need to “accept one another.” Theological differences should be no bar to complete Christian recognition and unity. But such an approach not only unfairly extrapolates from the specific issues of this text to any issue; it also ignores the many texts in the New Testament that draw a line between acceptable Christian beliefs and unacceptable ones. People who insist on imposing the law on Christians, says Paul, are preaching another gospel (Gal. 1:6–10); anyone who does not believe that Christ came “in the flesh” is an “antichrist,” denying both the Father and the Son (1 John 2:22–23; 4:1–6). Right doctrine matters—and matters eternally. Paul is not encouraging acceptance of any professing Christian, regardless of what he or she may believe.

Recognizing the need to distinguish between essential doctrines and the adiaphora raises another perplexing issue. How do we determine what belongs in which category? Roman Catholics have an advantage here: They can rely on papal authority to make that decision for them. But for Protestants the answer is not so easy. To be sure, Scripture is clear about some doctrinal matters. But the evidence on others is not so clear-cut. Thus, professing Christians take positions along a wide spectrum. Some are “minimalists,” insisting on only a very few beliefs (or none at all) as essential to the faith. This impulse is found especially in the ecumenical movement. At the other end of the spectrum are “maximalists,” who insist that any Christian who wants to enter into fellowship must cross the “t” and dot the “i” on an interminable list of doctrinal, ethical, and social issues. Some fundamentalists take this latter kind of an approach.

From the beginning of the church, Christians have written confessions and doctrinal statements to formulate what is essential to the faith. Our own ideas about what is essential should probably be grounded in these early ecumenical confessions (e.g., the Nicene Creed). Most churches and denominations will want to express their own distinctive approach to the faith by adding certain doctrines to the list. But we should be careful about insisting that such additions are essential to the faith and therefore a basis for fellowship with other believers. Paul’s advice to the parties in Rome applies to denominations and churches in our day: Where our differences lie in nonessentials, we need to “accept each other.”

Valuing and even trying to propagate our own perspective on the faith does not require that we refuse to acknowledge the genuineness of the faith of others. Paul serves as an outstanding model of what he himself would want each of us to exhibit: an unswerving commitment to the truth of the gospel combined with complete flexibility on the adiaphora.

Regarding the adiaphora, as Paul deals with the specific problems dividing the Roman church, he teaches several principles that should guide us as we deal with issues that divide believers in our own day.

(1) We must try to understand and respect where people are coming from. In the Arthur Conan Doyle story “Silver Blaze,” Sherlock Holmes comments to Dr. Watson that the behavior of the dog is the key to the mystery. But, Watson responds, the dog didn’t do anything. Precisely, Holmes responds, and the dog’s silence reveals that the intruder must have been known to the animal. Silence can be significant. One of the most important points in Romans 14 is something that Paul does not say: that the weak in faith must change their view. He makes clear that he does not agree with them, and by labeling them weak he implies also that they have room to grow on these matters. But he does not tell them to change their mind; he does not berate them for being “immature”; he does not tell them to “get with the program.”

Yet this is usually our first reaction to someone who differs with us. We want to change their minds, to convince them we are right. Paul would undoubtedly support the church’s efforts to educate its members as fully as possible about the gospel and its implications. But he is wise enough to know that there is a time and a place for such efforts. As we suggested above, all of us have our traditions, and they are not easy to give up. As long as they are not contrary to the gospel and hindering the work of the church, we should learn to tolerate these differences.

I need to preach to myself here. I have frequently, for instance, lost my cool in dealing with people who insist that the King James Bible is the only accurate English translation. (There is a “King James Bible church” here in the Chicago area, and I have relatives who attend it.) I immediately become irritated with their failure to grasp what seem to me obvious historical and textual facts. What I often fail to realize is that they are coming from a background in which adherence to the King James Version is bound up with their own identity and significance. It is not a matter simply of an intellectual issue but of a deep-seated social convention. I must learn to accept and value these folks as fellow believers, even as I pray that time will bring them to a more healthy perspective on translations.

(2) Christians who are not convinced in their own minds that something is right for them to do should not do it. Paul urges weak believers who still harbor doubts about eating meat not to eat, for they will be acting against their faith and thus sinning (v. 23). We may be placed in a situation in which most other Christians are doing something we have always considered wrong. We may be led by their example and arguments to rethink our own position on the matter. But until we are convinced, Paul suggests, we should refrain from acting.

Some of us bring baggage into our Christian experience from our background that we will never get away from. I know mature believers who refuse, for instance, to drink alcohol, dance, or play card games—not because they are sure such activities are wrong (they are often sure they are not wrong) but because they simply do not feel “comfortable” doing it themselves.

(3) When confronted with believers that have such scruples, those of us who do not have them need to modify the expression of our freedom by the demands of love. Liberty is wonderful, but love is even greater. Paul spends most of his time elaborating this point. He never suggests that believers do not have freedom on matters that fall into the category of the adiaphora. No one can take that freedom from us. But he is insistent about our need to express that freedom in such a way that we do not bring spiritual harm to another believer.

“Bring spiritual harm” summarizes well the language Paul uses about this point (see vv. 13, 15, 20–21). On the negative side, he is not saying that we must refrain from activity that another believer may disagree with. I happen to believe I have freedom in Christ to play cards, for instance. I have relatives who don’t think Christians should do that and are not happy when I do. But my playing cards is not, as far as I can see, bringing spiritual harm to them. I do not think, therefore, that I must refrain for their sake.

How might I, however, bring spiritual harm to another believer? Here, frustratingly, Paul is not clear. As we noted in our comments on verse 15, we can perhaps think of two main possibilities. (a) Our engaging in an activity that another believer thinks to be wrong may encourage that other believer to do it as well. They would then be sinning because they are not acting “from faith” (v. 23). We must be particularly careful about vaunting our liberty when the weak believer is in a minority. The peer pressure of most of the other Christians around him or her engaging in a particular action may be difficult to withstand. The strong believer must be sensitive to this problem and seek to identify with the weaker brother or sister—even at the expense of his or her own pleasure.

(b) An ostentatious flaunting of liberty on a particular matter may so deeply offend someone that he or she may turn from the faith altogether. A person may begin to think, Well, if the Christian faith encourages that kind of behavior, I want nothing more to do with it. To be sure, we want eventually to help people understand and enjoy the genuine freedom we have in Christ—the freedom to enjoy the world God has given us and the innocent pleasures of his common grace. But believers struggling on certain issues may not be ready for a display of our freedom on these matters.

(4) We should also note a point that Paul is not making in this text, although it is often read into it. The weak brother or sister is not someone who has a susceptibility to a particular vice, and Paul does not urge the strong believer to abstain because he is worried that our example may lead that individual to a life of degradation. This type of argument is especially brought up in connection with the drinking of alcohol. We are told that we ought to avoid drinking because our example may lead someone who has a weakness for alcohol to indulge to excess and so bring physical and perhaps even spiritual ruin to that person.

This concern may well be valid, but it is not what Paul is teaching here. The weak are not those who have a propensity to eat meat or to drink wine. Their weakness is spiritual: an inability to see that their faith allows them to drink. The potential problem is not that they may indulge to excess but that they may drink even when their faith is still telling them not to.9

In conclusion, we need to say again: The need to limit the expression of our liberty out of love for God and fellow believers is the key principle in this chapter. Our culture insists on rights, and it is easy for Christians to bring that attitude into the church. But the spiritual health of the body is far more important than our rights. The freedom God has purchased for us through his Son is a precious gift, but it is a freedom to live as God wants, not as we want. Luther put it well in his famous comment on Christian liberty: “A Christian man is a most free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian man is a most dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”10

Original Meaning

The Values of the Kingdom (14:17–18)

THE STRONG ARE not wrong to think they have freedom to eat whatever they want. Rather, they are wrong for using that freedom without regard to the effect it may have on their weaker brothers and sisters—people for whom Christ died. The strong need a reordering of priorities, in which kingdom values take precedence over selfish interest and pleasure. Thus, Paul now reminds us, God’s kingdom is not about eating and drinking but about “righteousness, peace and joy in the Holy Spirit.”

Since Paul typically uses “righteousness” language in Romans in a forensic sense to refer to our status before God, many interpreters think that dikaiosyne has that sense here.2 But Paul also uses this word to refer to “ethical righteousness,” that is, behavior pleasing to God (e.g., 6:16, 18, 19). This meaning fits the present context better.3 “Peace” refers to the horizontal harmony that believers should manifest. When these blessings are present, “joy” results.

All three of these characteristics, however, are possible only where the Holy Spirit is at work. When believers serve Christ “in this way,” they both please God and find approval with their fellow believers. The “this way” may refer to the virtues Paul has listed in verse 17.4 But the singular “this” (touto) does not match the plurality of these virtues. Most likely Paul is referring to the kingdom focus as a whole described in verse 17: God approves believers who serve Christ by focusing on those matters that are truly central to the kingdom.

Bridging Contexts

TRADITION! TEVYE’S FAMOUS cry “Tradition!” in Fiddler on the Roof embodies an attitude shared by almost all people in every century. All of us have certain traditions we maintain that serve to link us with past generations and to bind us tightly with other people in our own social or religious group. We often do not even know where such traditions come from.

I am reminded of a story my pastor, Todd Habegger, tells. In a family he knows, a ham always had an inch or so sliced off from one side before it was put in the oven. He asked why this was done. The woman cooking the ham replied, “Because my mother always prepared ham that way.” With her interest stimulated, she in turn asked her mother about the ham. Her mother said, “Because my mother always prepared ham that way.” When she then asked her great-grandmother about it, she laughed and explained: “The oven in our first home was so small that a whole ham would not fit into it. So I had to cut off part of it.”

Most of us probably have better reasons to maintain traditions. But, understandable or not, we all have them, and they have great value in giving us a sense of identity. We understand the issues in Romans 14 and their application to our own day better by fully recognizing the power of tradition. The Jews who lived in Rome in Paul’s day were especially in need of identity-reinforcing traditions. They were a minority religious group trying to survive and preserve their identity in the midst of a pluralistic and often hostile environment. Like many other Jews in the centuries after the Exile, they put great emphasis on some of the religious traditions that helped to preserve their identity and to keep them separate from the world around them.

Faced with both persecution and dispersion, Jews magnified Old Testament-based traditions such as circumcision, the avoidance of unclean food, and the observance of ritual days, especially the Sabbath. We should not, therefore, be surprised that it was just these issues that repeatedly surfaced as points of tension between many Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians. Theology, of course, played a big role. The group of Jewish Christians known as Judaizers, for instance, argued that God’s covenant with Abraham and its subsequent restatement under Moses made circumcision and obedience to the law essential components of what it meant to belong to God. Paul disagreed, as he reveals in Galatians.

But other Jewish Christians undoubtedly approached these issues from less of a theological or even theoretical perspective. They had been taught by parents and peers that certain practices were essential for all good Jews. Their acceptance of Jesus as their Messiah expanded their horizons, revealing to them that God had brought about a new era in salvation history in which Gentiles could join with them in worshiping the one true God. And, unlike the Judaizers, many of them acknowledged that the Gentiles did not need to follow those customs peculiar to Jews. Yet they had a hard time understanding why they personally should not continue to follow the rules they had been taught since childhood.

Even those who agreed in theory that the rules were no longer necessary probably had difficulty discarding what was so integral to their cultural and religious identity. These were traditions, and it is not always easy to throw them overboard, however persuasive the arguments for their abandonment might be. From his own background Paul knew well how powerful tradition was among the Jews. He sympathized with Jewish Christians who found it difficult to abandon overnight what was so ingrained in them. Thus, he wants the other Christians in Rome to “cut them some slack.”

But tradition is not confined to Jews or to the ancient world. Traditions are alive and well, and modern people are just as much affected by them. In contextualizing Romans 14, then, we ought to take modern as well as ancient traditions into account. We must realize that people in our own day who accept the good news are embedded in cultures and religions with their own traditions and that those traditions will not always be easy to give up. To be sure, tradition is never an excuse for sin. Paul unapologetically calls on new converts to turn away from any traditions contrary to God’s revealed will. But many traditions are not clearly sinful, and when this is the case, Romans 14 encourages us to take a slow and loving approach.

Theology, exegesis, and eternal security. Romans 14:15 is another one of those warning texts that create problems for those of us who believe in the perseverance of the saints (see comments on 11:21–22). Our final conclusions will again reflect our understanding of the overall biblical witness on this matter. A straightforward exegesis of the NIV seems to lead to the conclusion that a genuine Christian can lose his or her faith and be lost forever. Paul calls the person a “brother for whom Christ died.” That person, he claims, can be “destroyed” by the uncaring attitudes of other believers.

As we noted above, some interpreters try to get around the problem by understanding “destroy” to mean the spiritual grief and self-condemnation that the weak believer experiences when she adopts, against her conscience, the practices of the strong.8 But, as we also pointed out, Paul usually uses the verb “destroy” to refer to eternal damnation. A more promising approach is to ask the question whether the person Paul refers to here is truly a Christian. The NIV “brother” is a paraphrase; there is no adelphos in the Greek. To be sure, the word does occur earlier in the verse, and it may be legitimate to bring the word over into this last statement. But the matter is not as clear as the NIV suggests.

Of course, if one believes in the doctrine of limited atonement, the issue is settled. Those who hold this view insist that Christ died only for the elect. “One for whom Christ died” then must be a Christian. But I am not sure that limited atonement is a biblical teaching, so this is not decisive for me.

When all legitimate qualifications are allowed for, however, I still think the text, on its own, could suggest that genuine Christians can lose their salvation forever. But the text is not “on its own.” As a believer in the truthfulness and coherence of all of Scripture, I must bring to bear on this text what I see the Bible teaching elsewhere on the matter of a believer’s eternal security. I still tend toward the opinion that texts teaching the finality and therefore unchangeableness of a believer’s salvation in Christ are clearer and more dominant than those warning texts that may suggest the opposite.

Of course, I must always try to let each new “problem” text influence my view of what the Bible teaches. To simply impose my theology on every new text without sincerely letting that text have an impact on that theology is the epitome of eisegesis and a recipe for stagnation. Because we must be open to new truth that God may reveal to us through his Word, our theological conclusions must always be tentative and subject to change.

Contemporary Significance

WHILE 15:1–13 REINFORCES Paul’s plea for tolerance, all the key points he makes on the issue are now before us. This, then, is a good place to talk about the significance of his teaching for the contemporary church.

Dealing with the adiaphora. To begin, we must insist again that Paul’s advice in this chapter can only be applied to issues that are similar to the ones he is dealing with here. As we showed in our discussion of 14:1–12, eating meat, drinking wine, and observing Jewish holy days belong in the category of the adiaphora: things neither commanded nor prohibited to Christians. Extending Paul’s plea for tolerance to other issues is both wrong and dangerous.

In an approach typical of our times, a few interpreters have turned to Romans 14 as evidence that professing Christians, whatever their exact beliefs, need to “accept one another.” Theological differences should be no bar to complete Christian recognition and unity. But such an approach not only unfairly extrapolates from the specific issues of this text to any issue; it also ignores the many texts in the New Testament that draw a line between acceptable Christian beliefs and unacceptable ones. People who insist on imposing the law on Christians, says Paul, are preaching another gospel (Gal. 1:6–10); anyone who does not believe that Christ came “in the flesh” is an “antichrist,” denying both the Father and the Son (1 John 2:22–23; 4:1–6). Right doctrine matters—and matters eternally. Paul is not encouraging acceptance of any professing Christian, regardless of what he or she may believe.

Recognizing the need to distinguish between essential doctrines and the adiaphora raises another perplexing issue. How do we determine what belongs in which category? Roman Catholics have an advantage here: They can rely on papal authority to make that decision for them. But for Protestants the answer is not so easy. To be sure, Scripture is clear about some doctrinal matters. But the evidence on others is not so clear-cut. Thus, professing Christians take positions along a wide spectrum. Some are “minimalists,” insisting on only a very few beliefs (or none at all) as essential to the faith. This impulse is found especially in the ecumenical movement. At the other end of the spectrum are “maximalists,” who insist that any Christian who wants to enter into fellowship must cross the “t” and dot the “i” on an interminable list of doctrinal, ethical, and social issues. Some fundamentalists take this latter kind of an approach.

From the beginning of the church, Christians have written confessions and doctrinal statements to formulate what is essential to the faith. Our own ideas about what is essential should probably be grounded in these early ecumenical confessions (e.g., the Nicene Creed). Most churches and denominations will want to express their own distinctive approach to the faith by adding certain doctrines to the list. But we should be careful about insisting that such additions are essential to the faith and therefore a basis for fellowship with other believers. Paul’s advice to the parties in Rome applies to denominations and churches in our day: Where our differences lie in nonessentials, we need to “accept each other.”

Valuing and even trying to propagate our own perspective on the faith does not require that we refuse to acknowledge the genuineness of the faith of others. Paul serves as an outstanding model of what he himself would want each of us to exhibit: an unswerving commitment to the truth of the gospel combined with complete flexibility on the adiaphora.

Regarding the adiaphora, as Paul deals with the specific problems dividing the Roman church, he teaches several principles that should guide us as we deal with issues that divide believers in our own day.

(1) We must try to understand and respect where people are coming from. In the Arthur Conan Doyle story “Silver Blaze,” Sherlock Holmes comments to Dr. Watson that the behavior of the dog is the key to the mystery. But, Watson responds, the dog didn’t do anything. Precisely, Holmes responds, and the dog’s silence reveals that the intruder must have been known to the animal. Silence can be significant. One of the most important points in Romans 14 is something that Paul does not say: that the weak in faith must change their view. He makes clear that he does not agree with them, and by labeling them weak he implies also that they have room to grow on these matters. But he does not tell them to change their mind; he does not berate them for being “immature”; he does not tell them to “get with the program.”

Yet this is usually our first reaction to someone who differs with us. We want to change their minds, to convince them we are right. Paul would undoubtedly support the church’s efforts to educate its members as fully as possible about the gospel and its implications. But he is wise enough to know that there is a time and a place for such efforts. As we suggested above, all of us have our traditions, and they are not easy to give up. As long as they are not contrary to the gospel and hindering the work of the church, we should learn to tolerate these differences.

I need to preach to myself here. I have frequently, for instance, lost my cool in dealing with people who insist that the King James Bible is the only accurate English translation. (There is a “King James Bible church” here in the Chicago area, and I have relatives who attend it.) I immediately become irritated with their failure to grasp what seem to me obvious historical and textual facts. What I often fail to realize is that they are coming from a background in which adherence to the King James Version is bound up with their own identity and significance. It is not a matter simply of an intellectual issue but of a deep-seated social convention. I must learn to accept and value these folks as fellow believers, even as I pray that time will bring them to a more healthy perspective on translations.

(2) Christians who are not convinced in their own minds that something is right for them to do should not do it. Paul urges weak believers who still harbor doubts about eating meat not to eat, for they will be acting against their faith and thus sinning (v. 23). We may be placed in a situation in which most other Christians are doing something we have always considered wrong. We may be led by their example and arguments to rethink our own position on the matter. But until we are convinced, Paul suggests, we should refrain from acting.

Some of us bring baggage into our Christian experience from our background that we will never get away from. I know mature believers who refuse, for instance, to drink alcohol, dance, or play card games—not because they are sure such activities are wrong (they are often sure they are not wrong) but because they simply do not feel “comfortable” doing it themselves.

(3) When confronted with believers that have such scruples, those of us who do not have them need to modify the expression of our freedom by the demands of love. Liberty is wonderful, but love is even greater. Paul spends most of his time elaborating this point. He never suggests that believers do not have freedom on matters that fall into the category of the adiaphora. No one can take that freedom from us. But he is insistent about our need to express that freedom in such a way that we do not bring spiritual harm to another believer.

“Bring spiritual harm” summarizes well the language Paul uses about this point (see vv. 13, 15, 20–21). On the negative side, he is not saying that we must refrain from activity that another believer may disagree with. I happen to believe I have freedom in Christ to play cards, for instance. I have relatives who don’t think Christians should do that and are not happy when I do. But my playing cards is not, as far as I can see, bringing spiritual harm to them. I do not think, therefore, that I must refrain for their sake.

How might I, however, bring spiritual harm to another believer? Here, frustratingly, Paul is not clear. As we noted in our comments on verse 15, we can perhaps think of two main possibilities. (a) Our engaging in an activity that another believer thinks to be wrong may encourage that other believer to do it as well. They would then be sinning because they are not acting “from faith” (v. 23). We must be particularly careful about vaunting our liberty when the weak believer is in a minority. The peer pressure of most of the other Christians around him or her engaging in a particular action may be difficult to withstand. The strong believer must be sensitive to this problem and seek to identify with the weaker brother or sister—even at the expense of his or her own pleasure.

(b) An ostentatious flaunting of liberty on a particular matter may so deeply offend someone that he or she may turn from the faith altogether. A person may begin to think, Well, if the Christian faith encourages that kind of behavior, I want nothing more to do with it. To be sure, we want eventually to help people understand and enjoy the genuine freedom we have in Christ—the freedom to enjoy the world God has given us and the innocent pleasures of his common grace. But believers struggling on certain issues may not be ready for a display of our freedom on these matters.

(4) We should also note a point that Paul is not making in this text, although it is often read into it. The weak brother or sister is not someone who has a susceptibility to a particular vice, and Paul does not urge the strong believer to abstain because he is worried that our example may lead that individual to a life of degradation. This type of argument is especially brought up in connection with the drinking of alcohol. We are told that we ought to avoid drinking because our example may lead someone who has a weakness for alcohol to indulge to excess and so bring physical and perhaps even spiritual ruin to that person.

This concern may well be valid, but it is not what Paul is teaching here. The weak are not those who have a propensity to eat meat or to drink wine. Their weakness is spiritual: an inability to see that their faith allows them to drink. The potential problem is not that they may indulge to excess but that they may drink even when their faith is still telling them not to.9

In conclusion, we need to say again: The need to limit the expression of our liberty out of love for God and fellow believers is the key principle in this chapter. Our culture insists on rights, and it is easy for Christians to bring that attitude into the church. But the spiritual health of the body is far more important than our rights. The freedom God has purchased for us through his Son is a precious gift, but it is a freedom to live as God wants, not as we want. Luther put it well in his famous comment on Christian liberty: “A Christian man is a most free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian man is a most dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”10

Original Meaning

Don’t Cause Your Fellow Believer to Stumble (14:19–23)

AFTER THE INDICATIVE interlude (vv. 17–18), Paul returns to the imperative. We must live out the values of the kingdom by acting in ways that lead to “peace” and “mutual edification.” “Mutual edification” is a good rendering of an awkward Greek phrase (lit., “the things of edification that are for one another”). “Edification” translates a word that means “act of building” (cf. Matt. 24:1), though it is usually used in the New Testament with a spiritual sense: the process of building up individual believers or the church in faith (e.g., Rom. 15:2; 1 Cor. 14:3; Eph. 4:12, 16). The strong ought to be more concerned about the growth of the body as a whole rather than their own freedom and spiritual advancement.

In verse 20 Paul shifts from the positive to the negative: How foolish it would be to “destroy” (katalyo) this body, this “work of God for the sake of food.” “Destroy” in the somewhat parallel verse 15 referred to the spiritual damnation of an individual. Here, applied to the church, it probably means “ruin”—disputes over food bring disunity, mutual distrust, and, eventually, the break up of a congregation.

Paul then reiterates his conviction that all food is “clean” (v. 20b) and continues (cf. v. 14) with a reference to a “man” who eats. The Greek leaves unclear who this person is. In verse 14 the reference was to the weak believer, and the Greek here may have a similar sense.5 But the grammar and context favor a reference to the strong Christian, as the NIV translates.6 The strong Christian needs to recognize that it is wrong for him or her to eat food in such a way that spiritual harm comes to another believer.

Paul formalizes the point in a general principle in verse 21: Believers should avoid doing anything that brings spiritual harm to another believer. But why does Paul include “drinking wine” here as an example of a practice to avoid? He may simply be adding it as an illustration; “eating and drinking” form a natural pair (see v. 17). But most likely he introduces it because, along with eating meat and observing holy days, drinking wine is also an issue in the Roman church (see Bridging Contexts section of 14:1–12, where we noted that many Jews abstained from wine because they feared it had been tainted with idolatry through pagan practices).

In verses 22–23 Paul draws conclusions from his teaching for both the strong (v. 22) and weak (v. 23) Christians. Paul urges the strong to keep their convictions about the matters in dispute to themselves. There is no need for them to broadcast their views or to be continually trying to convince fellow believers how right they are. The blessing at the end of verse 22 is the bottom line for strong believers. They should act in such a way that they have no reason to “condemn” themselves with respect to the practices that they “approve” (dokimazo, consider to be right; cf. 12:2). Paul wants those who, like him, have internalized the truth about the freedom Christians have in the new era to have clear consciences about the ways they use that freedom—out of love and concern for the edification of the community.

But, Paul reminds us again, there are those who are presently unconvinced about freedom on these matters. Those believers, who still “doubt,” should not eat. While the eating in itself may not be wrong, it is wrong to violate one’s conscience. The weak believer who eats would not be eating “from faith”—that is, on the basis of a sincere conviction that eating meat is OK. Such eating then is sin, since “everything that does not come from faith is sin.” Paul is again using “faith” (pistis) in the specific sense he gave the word at the beginning of the chapter (14:1–2): a conviction that one’s faith allows one to engage in a certain activity. So, as true as it may be that any action that does not arise from faith in a general sense is sin,7 this is not Paul’s point here.

Bridging Contexts

TRADITION! TEVYE’S FAMOUS cry “Tradition!” in Fiddler on the Roof embodies an attitude shared by almost all people in every century. All of us have certain traditions we maintain that serve to link us with past generations and to bind us tightly with other people in our own social or religious group. We often do not even know where such traditions come from.

I am reminded of a story my pastor, Todd Habegger, tells. In a family he knows, a ham always had an inch or so sliced off from one side before it was put in the oven. He asked why this was done. The woman cooking the ham replied, “Because my mother always prepared ham that way.” With her interest stimulated, she in turn asked her mother about the ham. Her mother said, “Because my mother always prepared ham that way.” When she then asked her great-grandmother about it, she laughed and explained: “The oven in our first home was so small that a whole ham would not fit into it. So I had to cut off part of it.”

Most of us probably have better reasons to maintain traditions. But, understandable or not, we all have them, and they have great value in giving us a sense of identity. We understand the issues in Romans 14 and their application to our own day better by fully recognizing the power of tradition. The Jews who lived in Rome in Paul’s day were especially in need of identity-reinforcing traditions. They were a minority religious group trying to survive and preserve their identity in the midst of a pluralistic and often hostile environment. Like many other Jews in the centuries after the Exile, they put great emphasis on some of the religious traditions that helped to preserve their identity and to keep them separate from the world around them.

Faced with both persecution and dispersion, Jews magnified Old Testament-based traditions such as circumcision, the avoidance of unclean food, and the observance of ritual days, especially the Sabbath. We should not, therefore, be surprised that it was just these issues that repeatedly surfaced as points of tension between many Jewish Christians and Gentile Christians. Theology, of course, played a big role. The group of Jewish Christians known as Judaizers, for instance, argued that God’s covenant with Abraham and its subsequent restatement under Moses made circumcision and obedience to the law essential components of what it meant to belong to God. Paul disagreed, as he reveals in Galatians.

But other Jewish Christians undoubtedly approached these issues from less of a theological or even theoretical perspective. They had been taught by parents and peers that certain practices were essential for all good Jews. Their acceptance of Jesus as their Messiah expanded their horizons, revealing to them that God had brought about a new era in salvation history in which Gentiles could join with them in worshiping the one true God. And, unlike the Judaizers, many of them acknowledged that the Gentiles did not need to follow those customs peculiar to Jews. Yet they had a hard time understanding why they personally should not continue to follow the rules they had been taught since childhood.

Even those who agreed in theory that the rules were no longer necessary probably had difficulty discarding what was so integral to their cultural and religious identity. These were traditions, and it is not always easy to throw them overboard, however persuasive the arguments for their abandonment might be. From his own background Paul knew well how powerful tradition was among the Jews. He sympathized with Jewish Christians who found it difficult to abandon overnight what was so ingrained in them. Thus, he wants the other Christians in Rome to “cut them some slack.”

But tradition is not confined to Jews or to the ancient world. Traditions are alive and well, and modern people are just as much affected by them. In contextualizing Romans 14, then, we ought to take modern as well as ancient traditions into account. We must realize that people in our own day who accept the good news are embedded in cultures and religions with their own traditions and that those traditions will not always be easy to give up. To be sure, tradition is never an excuse for sin. Paul unapologetically calls on new converts to turn away from any traditions contrary to God’s revealed will. But many traditions are not clearly sinful, and when this is the case, Romans 14 encourages us to take a slow and loving approach.

Theology, exegesis, and eternal security. Romans 14:15 is another one of those warning texts that create problems for those of us who believe in the perseverance of the saints (see comments on 11:21–22). Our final conclusions will again reflect our understanding of the overall biblical witness on this matter. A straightforward exegesis of the NIV seems to lead to the conclusion that a genuine Christian can lose his or her faith and be lost forever. Paul calls the person a “brother for whom Christ died.” That person, he claims, can be “destroyed” by the uncaring attitudes of other believers.

As we noted above, some interpreters try to get around the problem by understanding “destroy” to mean the spiritual grief and self-condemnation that the weak believer experiences when she adopts, against her conscience, the practices of the strong.8 But, as we also pointed out, Paul usually uses the verb “destroy” to refer to eternal damnation. A more promising approach is to ask the question whether the person Paul refers to here is truly a Christian. The NIV “brother” is a paraphrase; there is no adelphos in the Greek. To be sure, the word does occur earlier in the verse, and it may be legitimate to bring the word over into this last statement. But the matter is not as clear as the NIV suggests.

Of course, if one believes in the doctrine of limited atonement, the issue is settled. Those who hold this view insist that Christ died only for the elect. “One for whom Christ died” then must be a Christian. But I am not sure that limited atonement is a biblical teaching, so this is not decisive for me.

When all legitimate qualifications are allowed for, however, I still think the text, on its own, could suggest that genuine Christians can lose their salvation forever. But the text is not “on its own.” As a believer in the truthfulness and coherence of all of Scripture, I must bring to bear on this text what I see the Bible teaching elsewhere on the matter of a believer’s eternal security. I still tend toward the opinion that texts teaching the finality and therefore unchangeableness of a believer’s salvation in Christ are clearer and more dominant than those warning texts that may suggest the opposite.

Of course, I must always try to let each new “problem” text influence my view of what the Bible teaches. To simply impose my theology on every new text without sincerely letting that text have an impact on that theology is the epitome of eisegesis and a recipe for stagnation. Because we must be open to new truth that God may reveal to us through his Word, our theological conclusions must always be tentative and subject to change.

Contemporary Significance

WHILE 15:1–13 REINFORCES Paul’s plea for tolerance, all the key points he makes on the issue are now before us. This, then, is a good place to talk about the significance of his teaching for the contemporary church.

Dealing with the adiaphora. To begin, we must insist again that Paul’s advice in this chapter can only be applied to issues that are similar to the ones he is dealing with here. As we showed in our discussion of 14:1–12, eating meat, drinking wine, and observing Jewish holy days belong in the category of the adiaphora: things neither commanded nor prohibited to Christians. Extending Paul’s plea for tolerance to other issues is both wrong and dangerous.

In an approach typical of our times, a few interpreters have turned to Romans 14 as evidence that professing Christians, whatever their exact beliefs, need to “accept one another.” Theological differences should be no bar to complete Christian recognition and unity. But such an approach not only unfairly extrapolates from the specific issues of this text to any issue; it also ignores the many texts in the New Testament that draw a line between acceptable Christian beliefs and unacceptable ones. People who insist on imposing the law on Christians, says Paul, are preaching another gospel (Gal. 1:6–10); anyone who does not believe that Christ came “in the flesh” is an “antichrist,” denying both the Father and the Son (1 John 2:22–23; 4:1–6). Right doctrine matters—and matters eternally. Paul is not encouraging acceptance of any professing Christian, regardless of what he or she may believe.

Recognizing the need to distinguish between essential doctrines and the adiaphora raises another perplexing issue. How do we determine what belongs in which category? Roman Catholics have an advantage here: They can rely on papal authority to make that decision for them. But for Protestants the answer is not so easy. To be sure, Scripture is clear about some doctrinal matters. But the evidence on others is not so clear-cut. Thus, professing Christians take positions along a wide spectrum. Some are “minimalists,” insisting on only a very few beliefs (or none at all) as essential to the faith. This impulse is found especially in the ecumenical movement. At the other end of the spectrum are “maximalists,” who insist that any Christian who wants to enter into fellowship must cross the “t” and dot the “i” on an interminable list of doctrinal, ethical, and social issues. Some fundamentalists take this latter kind of an approach.

From the beginning of the church, Christians have written confessions and doctrinal statements to formulate what is essential to the faith. Our own ideas about what is essential should probably be grounded in these early ecumenical confessions (e.g., the Nicene Creed). Most churches and denominations will want to express their own distinctive approach to the faith by adding certain doctrines to the list. But we should be careful about insisting that such additions are essential to the faith and therefore a basis for fellowship with other believers. Paul’s advice to the parties in Rome applies to denominations and churches in our day: Where our differences lie in nonessentials, we need to “accept each other.”

Valuing and even trying to propagate our own perspective on the faith does not require that we refuse to acknowledge the genuineness of the faith of others. Paul serves as an outstanding model of what he himself would want each of us to exhibit: an unswerving commitment to the truth of the gospel combined with complete flexibility on the adiaphora.

Regarding the adiaphora, as Paul deals with the specific problems dividing the Roman church, he teaches several principles that should guide us as we deal with issues that divide believers in our own day.

(1) We must try to understand and respect where people are coming from. In the Arthur Conan Doyle story “Silver Blaze,” Sherlock Holmes comments to Dr. Watson that the behavior of the dog is the key to the mystery. But, Watson responds, the dog didn’t do anything. Precisely, Holmes responds, and the dog’s silence reveals that the intruder must have been known to the animal. Silence can be significant. One of the most important points in Romans 14 is something that Paul does not say: that the weak in faith must change their view. He makes clear that he does not agree with them, and by labeling them weak he implies also that they have room to grow on these matters. But he does not tell them to change their mind; he does not berate them for being “immature”; he does not tell them to “get with the program.”

Yet this is usually our first reaction to someone who differs with us. We want to change their minds, to convince them we are right. Paul would undoubtedly support the church’s efforts to educate its members as fully as possible about the gospel and its implications. But he is wise enough to know that there is a time and a place for such efforts. As we suggested above, all of us have our traditions, and they are not easy to give up. As long as they are not contrary to the gospel and hindering the work of the church, we should learn to tolerate these differences.

I need to preach to myself here. I have frequently, for instance, lost my cool in dealing with people who insist that the King James Bible is the only accurate English translation. (There is a “King James Bible church” here in the Chicago area, and I have relatives who attend it.) I immediately become irritated with their failure to grasp what seem to me obvious historical and textual facts. What I often fail to realize is that they are coming from a background in which adherence to the King James Version is bound up with their own identity and significance. It is not a matter simply of an intellectual issue but of a deep-seated social convention. I must learn to accept and value these folks as fellow believers, even as I pray that time will bring them to a more healthy perspective on translations.

(2) Christians who are not convinced in their own minds that something is right for them to do should not do it. Paul urges weak believers who still harbor doubts about eating meat not to eat, for they will be acting against their faith and thus sinning (v. 23). We may be placed in a situation in which most other Christians are doing something we have always considered wrong. We may be led by their example and arguments to rethink our own position on the matter. But until we are convinced, Paul suggests, we should refrain from acting.

Some of us bring baggage into our Christian experience from our background that we will never get away from. I know mature believers who refuse, for instance, to drink alcohol, dance, or play card games—not because they are sure such activities are wrong (they are often sure they are not wrong) but because they simply do not feel “comfortable” doing it themselves.

(3) When confronted with believers that have such scruples, those of us who do not have them need to modify the expression of our freedom by the demands of love. Liberty is wonderful, but love is even greater. Paul spends most of his time elaborating this point. He never suggests that believers do not have freedom on matters that fall into the category of the adiaphora. No one can take that freedom from us. But he is insistent about our need to express that freedom in such a way that we do not bring spiritual harm to another believer.

“Bring spiritual harm” summarizes well the language Paul uses about this point (see vv. 13, 15, 20–21). On the negative side, he is not saying that we must refrain from activity that another believer may disagree with. I happen to believe I have freedom in Christ to play cards, for instance. I have relatives who don’t think Christians should do that and are not happy when I do. But my playing cards is not, as far as I can see, bringing spiritual harm to them. I do not think, therefore, that I must refrain for their sake.

How might I, however, bring spiritual harm to another believer? Here, frustratingly, Paul is not clear. As we noted in our comments on verse 15, we can perhaps think of two main possibilities. (a) Our engaging in an activity that another believer thinks to be wrong may encourage that other believer to do it as well. They would then be sinning because they are not acting “from faith” (v. 23). We must be particularly careful about vaunting our liberty when the weak believer is in a minority. The peer pressure of most of the other Christians around him or her engaging in a particular action may be difficult to withstand. The strong believer must be sensitive to this problem and seek to identify with the weaker brother or sister—even at the expense of his or her own pleasure.

(b) An ostentatious flaunting of liberty on a particular matter may so deeply offend someone that he or she may turn from the faith altogether. A person may begin to think, Well, if the Christian faith encourages that kind of behavior, I want nothing more to do with it. To be sure, we want eventually to help people understand and enjoy the genuine freedom we have in Christ—the freedom to enjoy the world God has given us and the innocent pleasures of his common grace. But believers struggling on certain issues may not be ready for a display of our freedom on these matters.

(4) We should also note a point that Paul is not making in this text, although it is often read into it. The weak brother or sister is not someone who has a susceptibility to a particular vice, and Paul does not urge the strong believer to abstain because he is worried that our example may lead that individual to a life of degradation. This type of argument is especially brought up in connection with the drinking of alcohol. We are told that we ought to avoid drinking because our example may lead someone who has a weakness for alcohol to indulge to excess and so bring physical and perhaps even spiritual ruin to that person.

This concern may well be valid, but it is not what Paul is teaching here. The weak are not those who have a propensity to eat meat or to drink wine. Their weakness is spiritual: an inability to see that their faith allows them to drink. The potential problem is not that they may indulge to excess but that they may drink even when their faith is still telling them not to.9

In conclusion, we need to say again: The need to limit the expression of our liberty out of love for God and fellow believers is the key principle in this chapter. Our culture insists on rights, and it is easy for Christians to bring that attitude into the church. But the spiritual health of the body is far more important than our rights. The freedom God has purchased for us through his Son is a precious gift, but it is a freedom to live as God wants, not as we want. Luther put it well in his famous comment on Christian liberty: “A Christian man is a most free lord of all, subject to none. A Christian man is a most dutiful servant of all, subject to all.”10