In searching for an illustration, I think of a letter of condolence written by Emily Dickenson. A friend of hers had lost a very dear relative. Under such circumstances, following custom, we write extending our sympathy and perhaps hark back to the time when our own mother died, or say that time will cure everything, or something of the sort. But this is what Emily wrote:
Dear Lou:
I'm thinking in that other morn
When Cerements all go
And Creatures clad in Victory
Go up by two and two.
Emily.
The point is clear. She was living in another world where the outlook and the values were entirely different. This was the case with Paul, and we must be awake to it at all times if we are to understand him. No matter how simple the thing he is talking about, we can be sure that he is not talking about it as we should but from an entirely different view-point, an entirely different centre of gravity.
Paul, in his experience, became very certain of three things. First, that this God-like faculty or faculty of being God-centered, of which I have spoken, exists in all men; second, that it is dormant in all men[;] and, third, that now the time has come when there is a possibility of awakening it. I have already referred to the first chaper of Romans, verse 19, where Paul points to the fact that from the very creation of the world what may be known of God has been plain to man, but that man has not used that knowledge. Paul states the same truth from another point of view in Romans 12:1, where he says that to present our bodies [as] a living sacrifice to God is our "logical" service, that is, our normal function. I shall refer again later to this verse. The same thing is stated in Ecclesiastes 3:11, "God has made all things beautiful; he has set Eternity in the hearts of men, yet so that man cannot know the works which God does."
It may be that in the time of the Preacher, man could not know, but in Paul's view all this is now changed. The curse, whatever it was, has been removed, and "in Christ" man knows just his place in God's scheme. WHereas the whole of creation has been moaning in the pangs of child-birth until this hour, in Romans 16:25–2 6, Paul speaks of the unveiling of the mystery shrouded in silence in past ages, but now brought to light. This mighty conclusion to the Epistle to the Romans links on very closely to the preface of the Epistle to the Ephesians, which I have already quoted. There he also states that the abundance of God's grace lavished upon us consists in making known to us that secret of His will.
Now perhaps we can begin to understand why it is hopeless to try to find an explanation of the meaning, method or motivation of Paul's letters in his sociological background. He knew—not merely by report, but he realized it for himself in his very being—that man to be really man must function in the universe like an organ in the body. He saw that in times past the knowledge of this normal function had for some reason been sealed to man, but now the time had come when this knowledge was open to all men. Nobody knew when the curtain would fall again. Certainly if there ever had been an excuse for man there was none now. This was the poignancy of the situation for Paul. The old motivations simply could have no appeal to him. He was no longer interested in developing the three natural evolutionary functions of man. He did not want to make man more rational in his thinking; he did not want to make him more philanthropic in his feeling; he did not want to make him more zealous in his actions. In short, Paul's aim was not to develop the natural equipment of his readers, but through the medium of their three natural faculties to put them in touch with reality, with eternity, so that each individual might uncover in himself that fourth divine faculty hitherto dormant. To effect this Paul proceeded in a way which is difficult for us to understand and appreciate. We would much rather have the truths presented to us in a more familiar way. Paul is hard. But to actualize his aim, his method was necessary. And it is really not so hard to understand, once we know what it is.
Paul used words not as symbols for the purpose of transferring his ideas to his readers but as sign-posts to indicate the presence of real and living truths so that his hearers might come into direct contact with those truths and develop individually for themselves, not merely as disciples of Paul. Aristotle says, "Unhappy the teacher whose disciples only learn." Paul was of this mind. Paul's "good tidings" consisted in an experience. He know that it was entirely worthless to impart the knowledge of that experience to another even so thoroughly that his hearer could himself pass the knowledge on without error. The only substantial value lay in communicating the contagion of the experience so that the hearer might have the experience for himself instead of simply knowing about Paul's experience.
Even for himself Paul feared lest he have an intellectual knowledge of the truth rather than an understanding of it in all his being. I wonder if you recognized the poignancy of his cry, when I discussed the translation of that passage, I Cor. 9:27, "lest by any means, after I have preached (or been an announcer) to others, I myself should be a castaway (or disqualified)." Now we see the true meaning, whatever the translation. Paul knew that it was only too possible for one to be a most able preacher of the word and yet not be touched by it in his being.
And so it is with his readers. Paul's object was not to instruct them but "to present every man perfected (brought to fulness of development) in Christ." Col. I:28. Paul was very specific that he did not aim merely to pass on his message but to make it grow. He says in II Cor. 2:17, "I do not, like most people, make merchandise of the word of God," that is huckster it, pass it on like a small dealer. On the contrary his stewardship as to his hearers is "fulfil" (the word of God) that is, bring it to fruition. Col. I:25.