Who Are You O Man

Well you will say to me then, 'Why does He then still find fault? For who has resisted His will?' But indeed, O man, who are you to reply against God? Will the thing formed say to him who formed it, 'Why have you made me this way?' Does the potter not have power over the clay, from the same lump to make one vessel for honor and another for dishonor? What if God, wanting to show His wrath and to make His power known, endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath prepared for destruction, and that He might make known the riches of His glory on the vessels of mercy, which He had prepared beforehand for glory, even us whom He called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles?

When we demand an answer from God, He answers with a question we cannot possibly answer.

The Deep Questions of the Soul

Perhaps you've asked, or at least thought, this question before, especially living in such a place as this: Why was I born in this place, and at this time? Or you look at the way God has worked in your life—maybe through a difficult trial—and you wonder, "How is it that God decided to do it this way instead of that? Why is God working in this manner and not in that?" We all find ourselves asking these sorts of questions. It's part of our very nature as human beings.

We desire to know our origins. We want to understand our purpose. We seek to identify our identity. And we especially want to comprehend our destiny. These are the questions every single philosophical thought is based upon—these essential questions.

One wonderful thing you discover when you begin to study the Scriptures is that God does provide answers to these deep questions of life. But sometimes the answers God gives are not in the way or manner we anticipate or expect. There are times where God's answers are hard for us to fully grasp. We are, the Bible makes very clear, wicked; our hearts are fallen. So to imagine a God who is completely righteous—holy, holy, holy—completely set apart from any corruption or sin, it's hard for us to grasp. As God spoke through Isaiah in chapter 55, "My ways are higher than your ways, My thoughts beyond your finding out."

The Anticipated Objection

Our text finds Paul dealing with these deep, difficult questions. The last several weeks in Romans 9, we've seen the apostle answering questions that trouble us, and here in verses 19 through 24 we're right in the thick of his argument. If God, as we saw in verse 18, has mercy upon whom He wills and hardens whom He wills, then one would object as Paul highlights in verse 19: "Why does He still find fault? For who has resisted His will?" The New Living Translation puts it: "Why does God blame people for not responding? Haven't they simply done what He makes them to do?"

When you look at the scope of humanity and salvation, you see some chosen to work out the plan of God, and others hardened, like Pharaoh. Some seem to receive great blessing while others did not—"Jacob have I loved," even though he was a wicked scoundrel, "and Esau have I hated." It's not necessarily that God hated Esau; it's that in the contrast of outcomes, it seems like God blessed Jacob more than Esau. So people ask, "Why does God work that way? If He hardened Pharaoh's heart, why hold him responsible? Wasn't he simply doing what God made him to do?"

Almost the entire book of Romans has been Paul's responses to anticipated objections. He makes a statement, backs it up, then responds to the inevitable question. Over and over, especially since chapter 5, he has patiently answered. And here in 9:19 he highlights another: "I've just declared that God had mercy upon Moses—a murderer, an escapee from justice—and blessed him and the nation he led, then hardened Pharaoh and judged the Egyptians. How come God was merciful to this one sinner and not to that other sinner?"

The Quintessential Biblical Smackdown

Interestingly, at every inevitable question until this one, Paul patiently and painstakingly answered. This time he doesn't. Apparently this objection, in Paul's mind, was absurd—he did not even consider the question valid. Look at his response in verse 20: "But indeed, O man, who are you to reply against God? Will the thing formed say to him who formed it, 'Why have you made me this way?'"

This is the quintessential biblical smackdown. It is on the same level with the book of Job. I highly encourage you to read Job—it's a fascinating book, considered by most scholars to be the oldest book of the Bible. God's own recognition of Job was that he was righteous and blameless. In the book we see into the spiritual realm, where Satan comes before God, and God says, "Have you considered My servant Job?"

Satan says, "Job is a mercenary; he only serves You for what You give him. Take away his blessings and he'd curse You to Your face." God says, "Let's test your hypothesis." Job didn't get to hear this. If he had, he probably would have objected—and I guarantee, if you and I could see the things coming in our lives that God sees, being outside of time, we would object as well.

Satan took away Job's health, his wealth, and his children. For almost the entire book, Job sits before three friends who accuse him falsely of sin and slander his character. All the while, Job is essentially saying, "God, I want an opportunity for a hearing with You. I want to plead my case and ask You a question." Perhaps you've heard someone say, "When I get to heaven, I've got a lot of questions to ask Him."

"Where Were You?"

Job got his opportunity in Job 38. The Lord answered out of the whirlwind: "Who is this who darkens counsel by words without knowledge?" Essentially, "Job, you speak of things you don't understand." He goes on, "Now prepare yourself like a man. I have some questions for you. You think you have questions for Me—let Me start with Mine." Verse 4: "Where were you when I laid the foundations of the earth? Tell Me, if you have understanding." That is being dressed down by God. This goes on for several chapters: "Who determined the measurements? Surely you know! Or who stretched the line upon it?"

We find ourselves asking questions of God, thinking, "You are unjust if You don't answer this. Why was I placed here, at this time, with the blessings I have, when someone else was not?" You really feel this when you experience the culture shock of coming back from a place like the Philippines or Mozambique after a mission trip. People talk about culture shock going to another culture, but the greater shock is coming home and seeing all the abundance you have, how we take things for granted. And we ask, "God, why was I born at this time and place? Why have You made me this way?" Or in a crisis we say, "God, why have You done this?" The reality is, sometimes we don't get the response we anticipated.

In His question, God addresses the fact that He is God and we are not. Have any of you seen the movie Rudy? I love that movie. There's a scene where Rudy goes to a priest, questioning things he can't understand, and the priest says, "There's two things I've learned in this life: there is a God, and I'm not Him." Sometimes we need to be reminded that we're not God; we don't have full understanding of what He, who sees and knows all things, is doing.

The Potter and the Clay

Paul says this objection is not valid. It's hard for us, because we think we have every right to ask. But Paul shows the question is absurd. It would be like if I were standing in my front yard and the palm tree I planted a few years ago spoke and said, "Why did you plant me right here?" I'd say, "Who do you think you are? Do I not have power to put it wherever I want? I can uproot it if I want—because it's mine!"

So Paul uses the illustration of the clay saying to the potter, "Why have you made me like this?" God has the prerogative, in His sovereignty, to do as He wills, especially as it pertains to accomplishing His purpose and plan. The Bible reveals that God has a plan; there is a strategy in human history. He did not create haphazardly. Isaiah tells us God did not create without purpose—ultimately, to magnify His glory and show how awesome and good He is.

In saying that, our biblical presupposition is that the sovereign God sovereignly respects human responsibility and moral agency. God respects our free will. Therefore my conclusion is that Paul is speaking of God's use of both the believer and the unbeliever alike to accomplish His purpose on the earth. He is able to use the instruments He has created, even if they fight against His will. God has a plan He has purposed to do, and nothing will thwart it. Even Pharaoh, fighting against God's plan to deliver His people, would not frustrate it.

God's Plan Cannot Be Foiled

We have a hard time comprehending this because our plans are often frustrated. How many of you have made a plan at eight in the morning, and by noon nothing has gone according to plan? That's every day in the DeBenedictis household. Proverbs 16:9 says a man plans his way, but God directs his steps. You may have a plan, but God has a bigger plan, and nothing we do can foil it. It might delay the outcome.

For example, God intended His people to come into the Promised Land, and He brought them to its edge in Numbers 13. But because of their unbelief, they could not enter. For 38 years that generation wandered until they died, and then God brought them in. Though they were stiff-necked and unbelieving, God's plan still went forward—it was just delayed.

God has a plan for your life and mine, and He will ultimately accomplish it. But sometimes, because of our kicking and screaming, it's delayed. This is why He said to Paul, "Isn't it hard for you to kick against the goads?" That's a hard place to be—like plowing gravel.

This is why I have little concern about what the Supreme Court says or does, or who is elected to lead this nation or another. Why? Because God's plan will not be frustrated by it. The church in America gets flustered and freaked out when something doesn't go according to our plan. Do you think God is frustrated? Do you think it took God by surprise? I think not.

From the Same Lump

Look at verse 21: "Does not the potter have power over the clay, from the same lump to make one vessel for honor and another for dishonor?" Underline "the same lump." The Greek word for power, exousia, means jurisdiction or authority. God, the potter, has authority over the clay—and Isaiah 64:8 tells us explicitly, He is the potter, we are the clay. From that same lump of fallen humanity, He has authority to make one vessel for honor—notice the word for—and another for dishonor.

Recognize that the vessel created for honor is intended to bring honor to the Master. We are not fashioned to bring honor to ourselves. Living in a culture that highly exalts the individual, we think we're formed to bring honor to us. But no—we've been formed to bring honor to God. All creation was made to bring Him glory. And yet creation is fallen; the lump of clay is fallen. Look around—you see some fallen clay. You're staring at some up here, and I'm staring at a whole bunch down there. And God, the potter, is able to take from that fallen lump and say, "I'm going to form this one for My glory."

Who are the vessels for honor in Romans 9? Abraham, a sinner cut from the fallen lump. Isaac, just another sinner. Jacob—if you read Genesis, you know he was fallen clay, yet God said, "I'm going to use your life as a vessel for honor." Then Moses, the Jewish remnant, and the Gentile remnant who come to faith in Christ. But there were vessels for dishonor—Ishmael, Esau, Pharaoh, unbelieving Israel, the unbelieving world. God still has authority over them, but they would not bring forth glory in the way He intended.

What Determines the Difference?

What separates one vessel for honor from a vessel for dishonor, when both are taken from the same lump of fallen clay? I would suggest, and I believe the text bears this out, that vessels for honor become vessels for honor because of belief evidenced by love and obedience. And one becomes a vessel for dishonor because of unbelief evidenced by rebellion and hardness.

What does each receive? Look at verse 22: "What if God, wanting to show His wrath..." You say, "God desires to reveal His wrath?" Yes. Romans 1:18 says, "For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of those who suppress the truth in unrighteousness." One day God is going to reveal His wrath, and thereby make His power known.

Is this even possible? Yes. Remember God poured out His wrath and justice upon Egypt. What was the result? Forty years later, when Israel came to Jericho, Joshua's two spies met Rahab the harlot, who said, "Our hearts melted within us, because we heard what your God did to the Egyptians." He made His power known.

So God "endured with much longsuffering the vessels of wrath prepared for destruction." He endured their stubborn rebellion, because He wanted to show His wrath—and, verse 23, "that He might make known the riches of His glory on the vessels of mercy, which He had prepared beforehand for glory." That word glory relates to honor. The vessels for honor receive mercy. The vessels dishonoring the Master receive the revelation of God's wrath. Both were formed from the same lump of fallen humanity, and I would suggest, according to His foreknowledge.

Not of the Jews Only

How do you become a vessel for honor that receives mercy, in spite of coming from the same fallen lump? Verse 24 tells us: "Even us whom God called, not of the Jews only, but also of the Gentiles." At this point many Jewish readers would object, because in the mind of first-century Jews—and Paul was cut from that same cloth—they considered that by virtue of being descendants of Abraham through Isaac, they were the vessels for honor, and all other people were vessels for dishonor.

The Pharisees, of whom Paul had been one, considered Gentiles unworthy of God's grace. And yet here Paul says God has bestowed His grace and mercy upon even Gentiles, by His calling. He has called a remnant out of Israel, and He has also called Gentiles out of the world to be vessels for honor—because they're all cut from the same lump of fallen humanity. God's mercy is not exclusively for the descendants of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob.

So why has God chosen to call one over another? The ultimate answer is found in Jesus' words: "Many are called, but few are chosen." That word chosen is the Greek eklektos, from which we get elect. The call goes to all, but few are elect. This is a big discussion in American Christendom today. Some go a step further and say one group is elect for heaven and another elect for hell—which is exactly what many first-century Pharisees thought of themselves and everyone else. Jesus gives two parables in Matthew using these very words.

The Laborers in the Vineyard

In Matthew 20, a master with a vineyard goes out at harvest to call workers. At 6:00 a.m. he calls workers and agrees to pay them a denarius, a day's wage, and they come. At 9:00 he goes back and finds more. At noon, more. At 3:00, more. And at 5:00, near the end of the day, he goes one more time and finds workers still there, and says, "Come, work in my vineyard." They work just one hour.

At day's end, he pays those who came at 5:00 a full denarius. Now those who started at 6:00 start thinking, "Bonus! If he gave them a day's wage for one hour, he's got to pay us something big." But then those who came at 3:00, noon, and 9:00 each receive a denarius—and finally those who came at 6:00 receive a denarius. And what happens in their hearts? They are angry.

The master answers in verse 13: "Friend, I am doing you no wrong. Did you not agree with me for a denarius? Take what is yours and go. I wish to give to this last man the same as I gave to you. Is it not lawful for me to do what I wish with my own things?" Is it lawful? Yes. In our minds it seems unfair. But notice what he says: "Or is your eye evil because I am good?" Why do we suppose him unjust? Because our heart is evil, and we project upon him our own unrighteousness. Verse 16: "For the last will be first, and the first last. For many are called, but few are chosen."

The Wedding Feast

In Matthew 22, Jesus tells of a king who prepared a wedding feast for his son and sent servants to call the invited guests—his own countrymen. But they made light of it and didn't come. The king sent servants a second time, and again they refused; some even took the servants, beat them, and killed them. The king was indignant, sent his armies to judge those murderers, and burned down their city.

Then the king looked over an empty feast and told his servants, "Go out into the highways and hedges, to all peoples, and call any—good or bad—and bring them in." They did, and the feast was filled. But the king found one man without a wedding garment. Some scholars believe the king would provide wedding garments to his guests; whatever the case, this man had none. When asked, he had no answer. So, verse 13: "Bind him hand and foot, take him away, cast him into outer darkness; there will be weeping and gnashing of teeth. For many are called, but few are chosen."

What the Parables Teach

When I said earlier, "Many are called, but few are chosen," you knew those words—but maybe you never made the correlation to these parables. The context is essential, because these parables teach important things.

First, they reveal that God is good and just, even though we project upon Him our own wickedness. Matthew 20:15: "Is it not lawful for me to do with what I have as I wish? Or is your eye evil because I am good?"

Second, they reveal that God's sovereign work is according to His foreknowledge. In the parable of Matthew 22, the story highlights everything the Jewish nation did before it happened, because God knows what is coming.

Third, they reveal that God is patient and slow to wrath, repeatedly calling workers to the harvest and guests to the feast.

Fourth, they reveal that God judges those who do not respond—the unresponsive guests—and those who respond in the wrong way—the man with no wedding garment, who came by his own method and righteousness. I believe the wedding garment speaks of being clothed in His righteousness.

Fifth, they reveal that God is not a respecter of persons in His call or His reward. He called the invited guests—His own countrymen, the Jews—but also the wanderers in the highway, both good and bad—Gentiles. And the latecomers received the same reward as those who came early.

The Call Is Still Open

Why has God chosen to work as He has? Whether we like it or not, it is God's prerogative to do with the lump of fallen humanity as He wishes. But God does all things with goodness and justice, in accordance with His plan; He is no respecter of persons, and He is gracious and patient. He holds accountable those who respond with hardness and rebellion, and He will judge the one who refuses to come, or who comes by their own means and righteousness.

Here we sit, 2,000 years later, and God is still calling for workers for His harvest, even though we may be at the eleventh hour. And He rewards openly and freely, the same as He rewarded those who came first. Those who followed Jesus in the first century do not have a greater reward than we who follow Him today. The call is still open. The wedding feast is being readied; the book of Revelation speaks of the marriage supper of the Lamb, when God will call the invited guests to come.

Will you come? Will you come wearing His garment of righteousness, or will you try to do it in your own righteousness and strength? The call is given to all. Those who are vessels for honor are those who respond in the way God has called—those who respond to His saving grace and are chosen in Christ, not chosen outside of Him, but chosen in Christ. I pray you would heed His call, because He's calling today.

Closing Prayer

Father, we thank You for Your calling, and we pray that it would be evidenced by our heeding it—that we are elect in Christ, according to Your foreknowledge. God, thank You for Your grace. We praise You today for Your mercy. You've not given us what we deserve; You've given us abundantly a reward we did not deserve. Thank You for setting us free. We pray in Jesus' name that You would open the eyes of the blind. Amen.