God's Glory Is Greater Than Our Groaning

Romans 8:18-25

18 I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. 19 For the creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed. 20 For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope 21 that the creation itself will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. 23 Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the firstfruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in this hope we were saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? 25 But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.

God’s Glory Is Greater than Our Groaning

How many times over the last 4 months have you said something along the lines of, “I just want this to be over,” or, “I just want life to go back to normal”?

Of course, for every one of us here, these last 4 months have been a once in a lifetime occurrence. None of us has ever seen anything like this. This truly has been unique. But I don’t know that the sentiment is.

I do know that, for me at least, this isn’t the first time I’ve felt emotionally exhausted. This isn’t the first time I’ve wished for something to be over. This isn’t the first time I have wanted things to go back to the way they used to be, which leads me to believe that even when, God willing, coronavirus is a distant memory there is going to be something else – globally, locally, personally – that drains us. There always is. And that’s a daunting reality. It’s exhausting to think about 80 or 90 years of living like this. But that’s kind of the point.

Paul started our passage for today by saying, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us.” The Romans were facing their own problems. It wasn’t a global pandemic, but in many ways it was much worse – religious persecution. The people were suffering. They were asking, “How long will this go on?” “How long can we keep living this way?” And to a group of discouraged Christians, Paul speaks these words of hope. He turns their attention from their groaning to the glory that God will reveal in us. And he starts in an unlikely way. He starts by talking about creation.

We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time because it was subjected to frustration; it was in bondage to decay. In other words, the world itself – the whole universe and everything in it – is not what God intended it to be.

When God created all things, he took a step back, saw all that he had made and it was very good. It was perfect! Everything that existed was exactly how God wanted it to be. But not long later, Adam and Eve ruined everything. They disobeyed the one command that God had given them and plunged the rest of creation into corruption with them. God cursed the very ground they walked on as a constant reminder to all mankind of sin and its consequences for every generation thereafter.

When announcing this curse to Adam, the only things that God mentions by name are thorns and thistles, but I’m sure you can see some of the other imperfections in the world around us to this day. How many animals have gone extinct or are at risk of it? What about viruses that make you feel like you’re living in a post-apocalyptic sci-fi movie? Crops that are flooded because of record amounts of rain. Hail that destroys whatever survived the flooding.

This world is not what God intended it to be. But there is still hope: Creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed.

It almost sounds like creation is putting its hope in believers – and in a way it is, but not because believers are better for the environment than unbelievers. We are not the hope of creation. No, creation waits in eager expectation for the children of God to be revealed because of what that will mean. It’ll be like seeing that first robin pulling worms out of your yard in April or May – that’s when you know Spring is here.

“When the children of God are revealed” is just another way to say that Judgment Day is here, i.e. the Last Day, the day that Jesus will come back to this world. And creation can get excited for that day, because on that day it will be liberated from its bondage to decay and brought into the freedom and glory of the children of God.

On Judgment Day, the curse will be lifted. There will be no more thorns or thistles. No more extinction. No more disease or death. On Judgment Day God promises to remake heaven and earth so that they are new and no longer subjected to frustration. Heaven and earth will be exactly how God intended them to be from the very beginning.

Right now, we know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth. There is pain; there are problems. But they won’t last forever. A time is coming when God will erase them. And the mere thought of that future day gives hope to creation. Creation has been eagerly awaiting its liberation from decay, and, in a way, that’s how you and I can feel.

The fact is that we have plenty of reasons to groan. We still endure the consequences of Adam and Eve’s first sin every day. Just look how long our landscaping lasted before the weeds started popping through the mulch. Not even a month! That would never have happened in the Garden of Eden.

But then you add to it the catalogue of calamities that have taken place these last 7 months and we groan. We groan about the virus. We groan about the protests. We groan about the policies. We groan about the guilt that we carry. We groan for something better. Paul says, “Not only so, but we ourselves… groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption to sonship, the redemption of our bodies.”

Now, it’s worth saying that we are already children of God. We call him our Father by faith. But what Paul is talking about here is very much like your normal, everyday adoption story. Adoption is a process! It takes time and hard work.

I happen to know a few people who are working through that right now. They were approved ages ago. They’ve known which child will ultimately be theirs for months. They’ve given them names and sent them gifts. They get pictures and regular updates. For all intents and purposes, that child is already theirs, but you better believe they’re counting the days until they can hold that child in their arms. That’s what Paul is talking about when he references our adoption by God.

God has already claimed us as his own. He has put his name on us in baptism. He sends his Holy Spirit to live in our hearts by faith. We are his children right now! But we still eagerly await the day that that adoption becomes finalized and we get to live with our Father in heaven.

It is not wrong to groan about the pains and the problems we face in this world. It is good and right to yearn for that day when we can put the frustration and fatigue of this world behind us. God promises us something better and he says that it’s not even worth comparing with the suffering we face today. His glory is infinitely greater than our groaning.

It makes sense to wait in eager expectation. It makes sense to hope for something better, but the challenge for Christians is to groan without despair. The difficulty is to wait eagerly but patiently. That’s what makes Paul’s words to the Romans more than just vague optimism. This is hope rooted in Christ.

For in this hope we were saved.

Paul goes on to talk about the quality of hope. Hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what they already have? If you want to have hope about COVID, you’re going to search the statistics. You’re going to comb the countries of the world to find one protocol, one practice, one positive story of success and then your thought process will sound something like, “If we can just do that, we might just have a chance (e.g. of getting back to school in September, visiting my mom in a nursing home, going back to the way life used to be).”

For Christians, though, the difficult thing is that there is no trend, no statistic, no positive outcome anywhere that tells us that things will get better. Everything we see in this world reminds us that there will always be something to groan about. Sure, we may escape this one crisis, but another one we haven’t even thought about is waiting around the corner.

And yet, God’s promise remains the same. Even for sinners who alienate themselves from their God, there is adoption to sonship. Even for us who feel the consequences of sin, there is the redemption of our bodies. We cannot see Jesus coming – and we won’t – but that doesn’t mean he’s not.

We hope in something unseen. We hope in a glory that can’t even be compared to any earthly thing. We hope in the promises of God, and even though we cannot picture them with our humble human minds, those promises give us perspective. They help us to understand that the groaning Paul talks about is the pain of childbirth not the despair of death. Like a mother in labor, we do face real pain here and now, but like that some mother, we know the pain will end. And when it does there will be something that’s not even worth comparing to that pain.

Christians, I don’t know the answer to “How long?” I can’t tell you whether life will ever “get back to normal.” But I can tell you that the heaven that God is preparing for you is way better than normal. And when you know that paradise is at the end of your story, it makes all the chapters in between all that less stressful. Whatever problems you face here and now, they end in heaven, and though you cannot see it, you can still hope in it, eagerly but patiently, because of God’s promise. The glory he promises you is greater than your groaning. Put your hope in him. Amen.


5 Words of Gospel

Romans 7:15-25

I do not understand what I do. For what I want to do I do not do, but what I hate I do. 16 And if I do what I do not want to do, I agree that the law is good. 17 As it is, it is no longer I myself who do it, but it is sin living in me. 18 For I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out. 19 For I do not do the good I want to do, but the evil I do not want to do—this I keep on doing. 20 Now if I do what I do not want to do, it is no longer I who do it, but it is sin living in me that does it.

21 So I find this law at work: Although I want to do good, evil is right there with me. 22 For in my inner being I delight in God’s law; 23 but I see another law at work in me, waging war against the law of my mind and making me a prisoner of the law of sin at work within me. 24 What a wretched man I am! Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death? 25 Thanks be to God, who delivers me through Jesus Christ our Lord!

Five Words of Gospel

I just can’t help it. I pick at it like a scab. I have to have the last word. I have to get my digs in. I have to be right and s/he has to know it. They can get their way all they want, as long as they know that I am right and they are wrong.

It’s hard to write a sermon on this text and not get autobiographical. I mean, Paul couldn’t even do that. That whole first paragraph is a mess. It’s word vomit. The emotions are spilling out of him and onto the page, to the degree that you have to stop and reread what he wrote 2 or 3 times just to understand what he’s saying.

“I don’t get it! I am in complete control of my body. No one else can tell me what to do. No one else is forcing my hand. I’m a free man and more than anything I am free in Christ! He died for my sin! I’ve died to my sin. I was baptized as a baby. I’ve heard the Word my whole life. I’ve supported myself every other week with the Lord’s Supper ever since I was 14 years old. And still I do the same stupid thing over and over and over again.”

There’s something distinctively Christian about guilt-induced self-loathing. We know a thing or two about lacking self-control. Paul doesn’t understand what he does, but we understand the feeling because we’ve all been there. Maybe it’s the stubborn pride that doesn’t let something go. Maybe it’s the utter, clueless selfishness that isn’t even aware how insensitive it’s being toward others. Maybe it’s that sexual sin or substance abuse that we just can’t shake. Gossip behind someone’s back. Bad-mouthing our government. We give in every chance we get.

I’ve struggled with ways to describe it. It’s like sin is a cancer that’s grown around my heart. It’s calloused and so interwoven into who I am that it can’t be cut out without killing me. It’s like this foreign body that’s invaded my body and is slowly killing me.

The problem with thinking about sin as a cancer is that that doesn’t explain why I like it so much, why I lean into it and hand it the reins of my life. Paul says that there’s something waging war against my mind and making me its prisoner, so that it has complete control over me.

Is sin more like the classic angel on one shoulder, demon on the other? Again, this foreign intrusion into my life that’s pulling me one way or another. I have the desire to do what is good, but I can’t deny the appeal of what that demon is enticing me to do. He makes it sound so good, so fun, so satisfying to sin. If I just say that one thing I know it’s going to cut that person to the heart. It’ll be so satisfying to see them so upset. If I just give in to that impulse or urge it’ll be so cathartic and gratifying.

The problem with thinking of sin that way is that it leaves all the power in my hands to choose between the two. If I can just be strong enough I’ll listen to that angel and always do what is right. But I know that nothing good lives in me, and that I don’t possess the power to resist doing what is evil.

No, I think sin is most like addiction. We give into it once and find that we like the way it tastes. We know it’s wrong, but we want to do it again. And the more we do it, the more natural and automatic it becomes, until we don’t even realize that we’re doing it anymore, until we’ve stopped thinking of it as a bad thing.

Sin holds the steering wheel of our hearts and we don’t have the strength to wrench it away. Honestly, I find the kind of moments that Paul talks about here kind of rare. I don’t even always have the presence of mind to realize that I should be doing something other than what I’ve done. I’m not even always ready to agree with Paul, “I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.”

Most of the time I let sin take the wheel and willingly sit in the passenger seat not caring where it takes me. But when I hear the law of God and what God wants me to do, that’s when I realize that my sin is taking me somewhere I don’t want to go. When I hear the law of God and think about the kind of person he wants me to be, that’s when I realize I’m not even close.

Do you want to be a good person? Do you want to be that Christian that’s always level-headed and at peace with whatever God has given you? Do you want to be compassionate and caring, i.e. the kind of person who doesn’t wait for others to call you asking for help, but you’re there on the front step before they know they need you? Do you want to be that generous person who gives and gives without worrying about what it costs? Or that strong person who knows what needs to be done and does it?

Do you want to be a good person? Are you one? Or do you feel like Paul does? “I know that good itself does not dwell in me, that is, in my sinful nature. For I have the desire to do what is good, but I cannot carry it out.”

To be a Christian is to live in constant conflict – and not with this exterior, foreign enemy. Sin lives inside of us, i.e. in our hearts. It’s part of who we are. It drives us away from God, and the farther we get from him, the colder and darker it gets. Paul isn’t kidding when he cries out in frustration, “Who will rescue me from this body that is subject to death?” That’s what we deserve. Death is the wages of sin.

And the worst part is that I am my own worst enemy. I’m the one standing in my own way of being the kind of person God wants me to be. Sometimes in my uniquely Christian, guilt-induced self-loathing I even think that the world would be better off without me. What hurt, what pain, what problems I cause. What a wretched man I am!

To which Paul says, “Thanks be to God!” Thank God that he doesn’t see us the way we see ourselves. Thank God that no sin is too great for him to forgive. Thank God that even though I am in reality an irredeemable mess of humanity, God redeemed me anyway through Jesus Christ our Lord!

The most recent edition of our NIV translation of the Bible expands this little verse to include the idea of deliverance. You might remember that as few as 9 years ago verse 25 simply read, “Thanks be to God, through Jesus Christ our Lord.” That’s literally all it says in the Greek. After pouring out his soul on the page and venting his own frustration for a paragraph and a half, Paul says 5 words of Gospel and that’s it! That’s all he needed to find his peace.

Through Jesus Christ our Lord.

I am not the champion of my soul. I can do nothing to rectify my situation. I cannot erase my past or escape the power of sin in my present, but I am not the reason for my hope of rescue. That comes only through Jesus Christ our Lord.

His name says it all. Jesus literally means, “He saves.” Christ refers to the Savior God promised to Adam and Abraham and David and Daniel, i.e. this hope that God has extended to generation after generation of sinners like you and me. Jesus is the Son God sent to save you from your sin by taking on himself his own body that was subject to death.

See, Jesus never had this internal struggle. Jesus always had the strength to resist sin’s temptation. Jesus always knew what was good… and did it! He always knew what was evil and avoided it! Jesus was not a wretched man who needed rescuing; he was the rescuer who came to save wretched humanity, and he did that by being subject to death for you, in your place, on your behalf. Jesus became your substitute.

Imagine all the things that you deserve for all the wrongs that you have done. Now put them all on Jesus. That’s what his cross means for you. That’s what he carried when he died for you. He went to the grave without any guilt of his own, but with all of yours and all of mine, to set you free from the power of sin, to rescue you from the fear of death and hell, and to deliver you to eternal life, no longer wretched but redeemed, through Jesus Christ our Lord.

5 words were all the Gospel Paul needed. I can’t promise that that’s all you’ll need to stop sinning for the rest of your life. In fact, I guarantee that they won’t be. The most seasoned and mature Christians still fight that war every day. But Paul doesn’t thank God because he’s suddenly done with sin. He thanks God because Jesus is. No matter how many sins we continue to commit, they are all forgiven through Jesus Christ our Lord.

When you are troubled by your sin – when you are in the depths of despair and sin-induced self-loathing – I pray that these 5 words can bring you peace: through Jesus Christ our Lord. He is your rescuer. He is your salvation. He has won the victory over your sin so that you can live in his grace. Thanks be to God! Amen.