Paul draws attention to a fact repeatedly discussed in the rabbinic debates of his era: Abraham heard God, came to know Him, and believed Him before the giving of the Torah and even before the day when he was circumcised. Circumcision was a most important moment: for Jews in those times (and for Orthodox believing Jews today as well) the world is divided into the circumcised and the uncircumcised, one's own and strangers, Jews and Gentiles. In connection with this, rabbinic circles argued a great deal about the exact moment when Abraham becomes the "father of all who believe."

The apostle affirms that Abraham became such at the very moment when he trusted God. The Torah and circumcision came afterward. This is understandable, for the Torah is ultimately not an end in itself, but only a means on the path of righteousness - the very path that, according to Paul, is now possible after Christ's coming only together with Him.

Therefore faith is the main thing. The issue, of course, is not what we often call faith today: not dogmatics whose correctness we are convinced of, not creeds we are ready to defend, and not even a worldview we regard as the most correct and adequate. The issue is faith in the biblical sense of the word, faith as trust and as the relationships that flow from such trust. And relationships are always dynamic and exist in the present - always here and now.

The Torah merely helps us build our life (inner and outer) in such a way that relations with God, relations with Christ, always remain for us the center around which everything else is gathered. And the "works of the Torah," including even such an important work as circumcision, are already the third, external level of human existence. It is also significant, of course, but it does not determine a person's relations with God and people. This is how the apostle builds the hierarchy of levels of existence (or, as a modern philosopher might say, existential layers) without which full Christian life will be at least difficult, if not altogether impossible.

Continuing the theme of the universalism of the Torah, Paul turns to the figure of Abraham. He points to the fact that Abraham became righteous not as a result of his religiosity, but because he was able to trust God (vv. 1-3). The apostle again points out that trust in God is the basis of righteousness, while works of righteousness are only the consequence of that trust (vv. 4-8). Even such an important religious rite as circumcision turns out for Paul to be only a sign of the relationships that bind the righteous person to God, and in no way their foundation (vv. 9-12). One could say that in these reflections Paul remains a follower of Hillel and of his teacher Gamaliel, for it was Hillel and his followers who always maintained that the basis of righteousness and of spiritual life in general is relationship with God, while all the rest of religious life connected with observing the Torah is only its consequence; without that relationship, it loses all meaning.

But Paul again goes further than both Hillel and Gamaliel. He says: if circumcision is only a sign of belonging to the people of God, given by God to Abraham as a consequence of his righteousness, then righteousness is also possible for the uncircumcised if they are able to trust God in the same way as the circumcised. In this sense Abraham becomes the spiritual father of all the righteous, both the circumcised (Jews) and the uncircumcised (Gentiles) (vv. 11-12).

The apostle by no means thinks there is no difference at all between these two categories of righteous people; he only reminds us that righteousness is one, and if a person, even an uncircumcised person, walks the path of righteousness, then sooner or later he will come to the same place to which the circumcised come by that path. The Torah is not a flying carpet given by God to His people in order to carry them into the Kingdom as if by the wave of a magic wand, sparing them from the path on which righteousness is acquired; it is a guide that helps them stay on the path. To regard the Torah as a privilege is a dangerous error, for if one takes it seriously, it will reveal not the advantages, but the sins, of the one who strives to follow it. Righteousness is greater than the Torah; the righteous person receives from God what was promised to him not because he deserved it, but only by God's mercy. The Torah in itself gives no one any rights (vv. 13-14). If someone decided to boast before God that he knows the Torah better than others, this would quite naturally provoke only God's wrath, for such knowledge would reveal first of all not the righteousness, but the sins, of the one boasting (vv. 14-15).

In this respect it is simpler for a Gentile: he does not claim knowledge of the Torah or the role of its keeper. Knowledge of the Torah in itself does not guarantee righteousness, and therefore on the way to the Kingdom there is no difference before God between Jew and Gentile. But more is required from those to whom the Torah has been given, because they know more about their sins than those who have not heard of the Torah.