The argument of chapters nine through eleven is not abstract. It is about something that actually happened in history, and Paul now names it plainly.

"What shall we say then? That Gentiles, who did not pursue righteousness, attained righteousness, even the righteousness which is by faith; but Israel, pursuing a law of righteousness, did not arrive at that law. Why? Because they did not pursue it by faith, but as though it were by works. They stumbled over the stumbling stone" (Romans 9:30–32).

The irony is sharp. The Gentiles, who were not running after righteousness by means of the Torah, arrived at righteousness because they received it through faith. Israel, running hard after righteousness by means of law-keeping, did not arrive — not because the goal was wrong, but because the method was wrong. They pursued what could only be received by gift as though it were a prize to be won by performance. And they ran headlong into the stone that was always there: Christ. "Behold, I lay in Zion a stone of stumbling and a rock of offense, and he who believes in Him will not be disappointed" (Romans 9:33; Isaiah 28:16; 8:14).

Paul is not dismissive of Israel's effort. The grief of chapter nine was genuine. "Brethren, my heart's desire and my prayer to God for them is for their salvation. For I testify about them that they have a zeal for God, but not in accordance with knowledge" (Romans 10:1–2). Zeal without knowledge. They were running, but running in the wrong direction — or more precisely, running by the wrong means toward a destination that can only be reached by a different route. Their sincerity did not compensate for the misdirection.

"For not knowing about God's righteousness and seeking to establish their own, they did not subject themselves to the righteousness of God" (Romans 10:3). This is the diagnosis. The two righteousnesses stand in contrast: God's righteousness, offered through faith in Christ, and the righteousness Israel was trying to build through its own law-keeping. The problem was not that God's standard was too high — it was. The problem was that Israel, instead of receiving the righteousness God was offering, was trying to produce its own. And the attempt to produce your own righteousness before God is precisely what the cross dismantles. It declares that no one's own righteousness is sufficient, and that God's way is the only way.

"For Christ is the end of the law for righteousness to everyone who believes" (Romans 10:4).

End — the Greek word telos — carries both the sense of termination and of goal, fulfillment, culmination. Christ is where the law was always heading. The law pointed to Him. Its sacrifices prefigured His. Its demands for righteousness were the standard He met perfectly on behalf of everyone who would trust Him. He is the end of the law in both senses: the law's demands are satisfied in Him, and the system of trying to achieve righteousness through law-keeping is brought to its terminus by His arrival. For everyone who believes, Christ is the answer to what the law required and could not provide.

Zeal is not enough. Sincerity is not enough. A lifetime of effort aimed at the wrong target is not enough. What is needed is what Israel largely refused: to stop trying to establish their own righteousness and to receive the righteousness God has established in Christ. That is not a new teaching. It is the teaching of the prophets, the pattern of Abraham, the logic of the whole argument Paul has been making since chapter one.

The stumbling stone is also a cornerstone. The same Christ who became a stumbling block to those who pursued righteousness by works is the solid rock under the feet of everyone who trusts in Him.