Among the evocative expressions once common in Scotland, one is a particularly appropriate description of Professor John Murray. He was a “lad o’ pairts”—clever and talented—a boy from a modest Highland home whose special gifts were recognized and, in the tradition John Knox had established during the Scottish Reformation, were to be developed as far as possible.
The story of that development can be told simply. John Murray was born in Sutherland in the Scottish Highlands on October 14, 1898, was educated at Dornoch Academy, enlisted as a soldier in 1917 during the First World War, and graduated with a master’s in arts from the University of Glasgow in 1923. By 1927, he had graduated from further studies with ThB and ThM degrees from Princeton Theological Seminary, where he returned to teach during the academic year 1929–30, before joining the newly formed faculty of Westminster Theological Seminary at the invitation of J. Gresham Machen.
There he would remain, serving as professor of systematic theology (and as a teaching elder in the Orthodox Presbyterian Church, of whose General Assembly he served as moderator in 1961) until his retirement in 1966. Murray then returned home to the family croft, marriage, and fatherhood. He died on May 8, 1975.
His best-known works include Christian Baptism (1952), Divorce (1953), The Covenant of Grace (1954), Redemption Accomplished and Applied (1955), Principles of Conduct (1957), The Imputation of Adam’s Sin (1959), Calvin on Scripture and Divine Sovereignty (1960), and the book considered here, his commentary on The Epistle to the Romans (vol. 1, 1959; vol. 2, 1965). Many of his occasional writings were brought together in the four-volume Collected Writings of John Murray (published posthumously between 1976 and 1982).
Old Commentary, Modern Relevance
Thus, the small boy reared on a small croft in the Scottish Highlands became the revered professor of systematic theology at Westminster Theological Seminary in Philadelphia. In addition to being a “lad o’ pairts,” he was, as those who had the privilege of meeting or hearing him recognized, “a man o’ wecht”—a man of weight—what the Hebrew Bible calls kābôd—worthiness and dignity. This gravitas was present in all Murray’s published works, and not least in his commentary on Romans.
The Epistle to the Romans
John Murray
Careful exegetical attention, a robust knowledge of Reformed systematic theology, and an acute awareness of our spiritual needs all mark this staggering work of profound scholarship. In stunning detail, Murray leads us through the traditional landscape of a Roman’s commentary (authorship, purpose, structure, verse-by-verse exposition), engaging with leading scholars and theologians of his time. But he adds to this discussion his own depth of understanding based on years of teaching and studying the text.
Although first published in two volumes in the New International Commentary on the New Testament series, it has been most widely read in its “sandwiched” single-volume form. Westminster Seminary Press is to be thanked for its republication in the present format. The goal is that it will again become valued by a new generation of seminary students, pastors, and students of Scripture and that this commentary will stimulate the study of and meditation on the letter that Martin Luther once described as “purest Gospel.”
The effect of these pages is not only didactic but also personal. This is by no means accidental. Among Murray’s deepest convictions was that Scripture wasn’t to be studied as merely another work of literature. Rather, as the God-breathed Word, it was intended to be “profitable for teaching, for reproof, for correction, and for training in righteousness,” in light of which, therefore, the goal of commentary writing must also be “that the man of God may be complete, equipped for every good work” (2 Tim. 3:16–17).
Thus, Murray’s Epistle to the Romans belongs to the classical tradition of commentary writing, more reminiscent of the work of Calvin and Luther than of the modern genre of commentaries that are encyclopedic in length and technical detail. It would, however, be wrong to assume John Murray paid little attention to careful research. At one point, his correspondence reveals his sense of relief and joy in discovering in Scotland a copy of a 16th-century work he had feared he might find only in a European library.
In addition, Murray was well able to discuss linguistic and exegetical nuances. But he never lost sight of the goal of a commentator in the Pauline tradition, namely the phanerosis tēs alētheias—“the open statement of the truth” (2 Cor. 4:2). This gives his work a certain timeless quality that fits it to any age in the history of the church.
Murray the Plowman
The New International Commentary on the New Testament series was groundbreaking in its day and in some ways signaled conservative biblical scholarship’s coming of age.
It’s difficult for 21st-century seminary students to envisage the quantum leap that has taken place in scholarly evangelical publications in the past half-century. A theological student in the 1950s often had to reach back at least into the 19th century to find substantial scholarly commentaries written by evangelical authors. Today’s student can choose not only from a wide selection of individual works but even from entire commentary series, many available at the click of a button. Murray and his generation were plowmen and planters preparing the way for the harvest that followed.
The Epistle to the Romans belongs to the classical tradition of commentary writing, more reminiscent of the work of Calvin and Luther than of the modern genre of commentaries that are encyclopaedic in length and technical detail.
This minor renaissance notwithstanding, the general editor of the New International Commentary on the New Testament, Ned Stonehouse, must have raised some eyebrows when he announced John Murray as his choice of author for the volume on Romans. The series was understandably dominated by the work of New Testament scholars; Murray was a systematic theologian. Why place the jewel in the crown of the Pauline corpus in the hands of someone who wasn’t a member of the guild?
Stonehouse was acute enough to know Romans wasn’t simply Paul’s systematic theology treatise. He was, I suspect, also aware that not all New Testament exegetes would be capable of conveying a sense of the massive theological, spiritual, and pastoral weight of Paul’s magnum opus. As Murray’s colleague, he was sufficiently familiar with Murray’s exegetical skills to be confident that a work on Romans from him would not disappoint. As is evident from his editor’s preface, Stonehouse was profoundly gratified by the result.
Tackling Romans
In the matter of commentaries, the old Latin adage is surely applicable: de gustibus non disputandum est (you can’t argue about taste!). People appreciate different commentaries for different reasons. And while commentators are duty bound to discuss the entire text, inevitably an author’s interests and strengths (what Murray calls “predilections”) come to the fore. In Murray’s work, these include his exposition of the Christology of Romans not only in 5:12–21 (reflecting his detailed discussion of the passage in his Imputation of Adam’s Sin) but also in his Geerhardus Vos–influenced treatment of 1:3–4. His exposition of 6:1–14 echoes the insights he had developed in 1957 in Principles of Conduct, which he further examined in his treatment of definitive sanctification in 1967 in the Calvin Theological Journal.
While some readers inevitably commented on the fact that the treatment of chapters 12–16 was markedly shorter, Murray doubtless felt these applicatory chapters required less theological exposition than the earlier ones (not least in the light of his own earlier discussions in his Principles of Conduct). But here too we find him handling the text as the living Word of God for today’s churches as well as for those in first-century Rome. This is certainly true of his comments on the weak and the strong and on the issue of the observance of diets and days.
Moreover, since commentary readers often tend to lose interest when they come to Paul’s closing greetings, it may be worth drawing attention to his comments on “Greet one another with a holy kiss” (16:16). Here, unlike most commentators, he isn’t content to rest with a cultural explanation but makes a contemporary application that is—at least to many readers—wholly unexpected: “Paul characterizes the kiss as ‘holy’ and thus distinguishes it from all that is erotic or sensual. It betrays an unnecessary reserve, if not loss of the ardour of the church’s first love, when the holy kiss is conspicuous by its absence in the Western Church.”
In some ways, these comments on what is, clearly, not a central doctrinal statement highlight John Murray’s quintessential characteristics: a seriousness about the teaching of Scripture as God’s Word, a desire to understand it properly, and a commitment to teach it, apply it, and to live it out in detail—all within the fellowship of the love of God and his people.
In the context of the United States where he served for many years, John Murray appeared to many as unique. But in certain important respects, he was in fact a traditional example of the Reformed piety characteristic of his Scottish Highland home life. On the intellectual level, he’d learned to think clearly and biblically from the Westminster Shorter Catechism, which taught him that right answers arise only when the right questions are asked and, as one answer led on to the next question, taught him how to think logically.
On the personal level, his style of speech with its ability to place tremendous weight on words and statements, his combination of gravity and a love of humour, of rigor and affection, were all expressive of the spiritual womb that had given him birth and the church culture in which he had been nurtured. The young Murray, as Calvin wrote of Timothy, “could suck in godliness with his mother’s milk.”
To rehearse even these few details of his life suggests why the theology embodied in Romans would have meant so much to John Murray. The pages of this commentary are the product of a Highland boy who lost two brothers and his right eye in the Great War, and who only came to know the joys of marriage and fatherhood after his retirement from an astonishing academic career.
Prized Possession
As a fellow Scot, it’s a great personal privilege to commend this commentary. On Murray’s return to Scotland, his friend and colleague, the Old Testament scholar E. J. Young, wrote, “I remember that when I was a student and you had lectured on Romans 5:12–19 I was so moved by the content of those verses that I took a long walk that afternoon just to think about them.”
On the intellectual level, Murray had learned to think clearly and biblically from the Westminster Shorter Catechism, which taught him that right answers arise only when right questions are asked.
I was then in my teens, but only a few days after those lines were written, I heard Murray for the first time. He gave an address on the obedience of Christ that left an indelible mark on me.
Not long afterward, I heard a version of the same lecture about which Young had written. The scene plays again easily in my mind: Murray steps up to the podium, carefully places on it his red bound Aland Greek New Testament, and—while it remains unopened!—leads us, note free, through the intricacies of Romans 5:12–21 for the next hour. Fifty years later, the sense of the overwhelming significance of Paul’s teaching remains with me.
It’s therefore not surprising that this commentary remains a prized possession or that I pray the influence of John Murray’s teaching will be as great on the coming generation as it has been on me. Fine commentaries on Romans have been written since this one first appeared. But this in no sense diminishes its value, nor does the fact that it’s based on the American Revised Version (which Murray himself felt “leaves a good deal to be desired in the matter of translation”).
Murray’s approach to commentary writing transcends developments in technical scholarship, and therefore this volume remains his gift to the church for all generations. His own words both explain why this is so and form its best introduction:
The epistle to the Romans is God’s Word. Its theme is the gospel of his grace, and the gospel bespeaks the marvels of his condescension and love. If we are not overwhelmed by the glory of that gospel and ushered into the holy of holies of God’s presence, we have missed the grand purpose of this sacred deposit. And it is only because the God of grace has put treasure in earthen vessels that we men have been given the task and privilege of undertaking exposition. If any success has attended this effort it is only of the grace of the Holy Spirit by whose inspiration the epistle was written and by whose illumination the church has been led in the interpretation of it. Profound humility should always be ours. The excellency of the power is of God and not of us and to him alone be all praise and glory.
This article is adapted from Sinclair Ferguson’s introduction to The Epistle to the Romans by John Murray (Westminster Seminary Press, October 2022).
