For this is thankworthy. — “This,” viz., what goes before, which is further explained in what follows. Quite literally it is, for this is grace, or else (for, like grâce in French, ‘the word has the double signification) this is thanks. The passage has some little importance in controversy, as some of the older Roman Catholic divines pressed it into the service of the supererogation theory. “This is grace,” they said, means “this deserves grace as its reward.” It is needless to point out how shallow a view of duty is implied in the thought that it was more than duty to be thus submissive. Still taking the first translation, others would interpret, “this is a mark of grace” — i.e., shows that you are Christians indeed; or, “this is a gift of grace” — i.e., a supernatural and heroic virtue, such as must have come from God, and not from you.” These two interpretations make good sense in themselves, but they seem not to suit the context (“what glory is it”) quite so well as our authorised rendering, and they ignore the sayings of our Lord, which must certainly have been in St. Peter’s mind, recorded in Luke 6:27-35, especially Luke 6:32-34, and again in Luke 17:9. The thought is that where duty is both obvious and easy (as is the case with good masters), people do not lavish gratitude for the performance of it. The best of masters hardly feels grateful to the best of servants for doing his duty, though he will be grateful for the spirit and manner in which it is done. Here the “thanks” are put quite generally, as in the first passage in St. Luke: “this is a matter for thanks.” It does not say as yet who is to pay the thanks, and we may naturally conclude that the master so served, and all who are cognisant of the service, are the persons meant.
For conscience toward God endure grief, suffering wrongfully. — This does not mean “if a man is afflicted for his religion’s sake.” Rather, the conscience towards God, or, perhaps, rather, consciousness of God, is thrown in to guard against any false theory that patience by itself is a thankworthy thing. However unjust the man’s treatment may be, and however little he may resent it in act, it is not thankworthy unless his resignation be grounded on consciousness of God’s presence. A resignation which comes from stolid want of feeling, or stoical fatalism, or from the sense that it is no good to seek redress — such resignation is sinfully defective. The two necessary qualifications, before patience can become in any sense meritorious, are (1) that the suffering should be undeserved, (2) that the man should recognise in it the hand of God.