NOTES for Rom 11:1-12

Reflecting on the fate of his tribesmen and fellow believers, Paul turns to the prophetic tradition and to the theme of the remnant, which is central to prophetic messianism. He recalls the days of Elijah, who also thought that among the people of God no faithful ones remained except himself, but God's answer supported and encouraged the prophet (vv. 2-4). And the apostle too is sure that a remnant within the Jewish people could not have failed to remain (v. 5). Of course, the historical situation had changed, but the principle of God's action remained the same: as in the days of the Babylonian exile, He works not with the majority of His people, who remain deaf to His calls, but with the minority ready to hear (vv. 7-10).

It should be noted that in those days the question of the messianic remnant was being discussed quite actively in the synagogue environment. After the Babylonian exile, all the repatriates who returned to the land of their fathers felt themselves to be the remnant. But now, after the passing of centuries, the question arose again with its former sharpness: can all those who belong to the Jewish people consider themselves the remnant of which the prophets spoke? Both the most active part of the Synagogue, represented by the Pharisaic brotherhood, and certain marginal communities and movements such as the Essenes laid claim to this role. For Paul, as we can see, this remnant was the Judeo-Christian community, of which he himself was one of the most striking representatives (v. 1).

But the essence of the remnant, as Paul understood it, differed somewhat from traditional ideas about it. As a rule, when people spoke of the remnant in those days, they meant the most religiously active and devout people. The apostle, as we can see, puts first not religious activity ("works"), but grace, without which one cannot enter the Kingdom (v. 6). This is not surprising: unlike the Pharisees or the Essenes, for whom the coming of the Messiah and the arrival of the Kingdom were still matters of the future, Paul speaks of the Messiah who has already come and of the Kingdom that is already arriving, into which one can enter not because one has earned it, but because the Savior opens the way there to everyone who is ready to trust Him.

Paul speaks about the hardening of the people in the same sense in which the Book of Exodus speaks about the hardening of Pharaoh's heart before God (Ex. 8:15, 8:32), and for him this is inseparable from reflections on God's providence and human freedom. Why, then, does a person become hardened? Humanly speaking, this is completely clear; but why God did not intervene is impossible to understand, just as it is impossible to understand why He did not intervene in the case of Pharaoh, whose heart was in His hand, as were the hearts of those who met the Savior during His earthly ministry.

Only this is obvious to the apostle: first, not everyone became hardened, and second, not forever. Here he recalls the story with the prophet Elijah, who was also sure that no one faithful to God remained except himself, until God Himself told him that he was not alone. As for the Jewish people, Paul again speaks of a remnant in roughly the same sense in which the pre-exilic prophets spoke of it. They too knew that not the whole people would accept the Messiah, but only its smaller part, which still had to be formed, and in the process of persecutions and catastrophes.

That is how it happened: the remnant that began to take shape even before the exile was persecuted by the authorities, and then, during the exile, the whole Jewish community of Babylon became the remnant. And this is not a figurative expression: in exile only one who kept the faith of the fathers could remain a Jew; the rest were doomed to rapid assimilation. In those times the remnant was distinguished by a religious mark, and the community that formed therefore became an ethnoconfessional community: in post-exilic times a Jew was anyone belonging to the Synagogue, regardless of whether he was born a Jew or accepted Judaism.

But when the Messiah came, it turned out that religiosity is not the main criterion. More than that, it became clear that sometimes precisely religiosity prevents a person from accepting the Messiah and entering the Kingdom. Paul, of course, knew this perfectly well, in particular from his own experience. Therefore he began to speak about the selection of another remnant, which would accept the Messiah and become the new people of God. But this new people does not replace the former one; it grows out of it just as post-exilic Jewry grew out of pre-exilic Jewry. Only now the main feature of the people becomes not its religiosity, but its readiness to live by grace.

Reflecting on the historical fate of his people, Paul does not separate them from the Kingdom to which he bears witness. He does not doubt that the fate of the Jewish people precisely as the people of God is by no means over, that the Jews stumbled on the way into the Kingdom not in order to fall and never rise again (v. 11). The history of the Kingdom is paradoxical: former Gentiles go there ahead of those whom the Savior Himself called first, and the Jews' unwillingness to be first on this path only heats up the enthusiasm of those who are going. But the apostle is sure that at the end of time, when the Kingdom is revealed in all its fullness, his tribesmen will enter it, so that neither the fullness of the Kingdom nor the resurrection itself will be possible without their participation (vv. 12-15).

Paul understands that the people of God, conceived by God even before He created the world, were conceived by God as a people sanctified by His presence, "holy," and this holiness was not the people's privilege, but part of God's plan for the salvation of the world and humanity. That is why it is not determined solely by the historical fate of the Jewish people, within whom God always finds the remnant that corresponds to His plan for what His people should be. In the apostle's expression, the people's "holy root" has not gone anywhere simply because it cannot disappear. Its disappearance would mean the failure of God's whole plan of salvation, and that is impossible by definition.

And if so, then the branches too are made holy by the holy root (v. 16). Paul, as we can see, remains faithful to the prophetic tradition where the attitude toward Gentiles is concerned. The ancient prophets said more than once that in the messianic Kingdom, the remnant of God's people would meet Gentiles who sought the true God and finally found Him. But the apostle understands that God's priorities have remained the same: His people remain His people, and the salvation of former Gentiles is possible only if they acknowledge the fact obvious to Paul, that there is and can be no other people of God besides the one whose history begins with the call of Abraham. To illustrate this position clearly, the apostle uses the image of grafting and cultivating a wild olive tree, something that would be completely impossible if, first, there did not exist a "good" olive tree, a cultivated variety, and if, second, no gardener were found who was able and willing to perform such an operation (vv. 17-24).

As we can see, for Paul the history of the people of God is one single spiritual process, in which the fate of the Jewish people, the ministry of the remnant, and the history of the Kingdom become one whole.