You can be seated. Please turn with me in your Bible to Romans chapter 8.
We're looking today at Romans chapter 8, verses 23 to 25, but I'm going to start reading at verse
18. Romans chapter 8, if you're looking at a pew Bible, is page 944.
Let's read these verses together. For I consider that the sufferings of this present time
are not worth comparing with the glory that is to be revealed to us. For the creation waits with
eager longing for the revealing of the sons of God. For the creation was subjected to futility,
not willingly, but because of him who subjected it in hope that the creation itself will be set
free from its bondage to corruption and obtain the freedom of the glory of the children of God.
For we know that the whole creation has been groaning together in the pains of childbirth until now,
and not only the creation, but we ourselves who have the first fruits of the Spirit,
groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies. For in
this hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope for who hopes for what he sees.
But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience. Let's pray.
Lord, we thank you for your Word. We thank you for the Apostle Paul who wrote it so many years ago.
Thank you for preserving it and giving it to us, for those who have translated it into our language
so we can readily understand it. And we pray that your Spirit would do accomplish the work that you
desire in our hearts as we hear your Word today. In Jesus' name, amen. Well, this morning's passage is
about hope. It's about the hope that Christians can have. And it's a very relevant topic because in
our present world, hope seems to be increasingly difficult to grasp. If you read contemporary
philosophers, existentialists, nihilists, postmodern and deconstructionist thinkers, they talk about
the absurdity of life, the arbitrary nature of language, the breakdown of meaningful
metanarratives, large stories that make sense of the world. Last year, the New York Times Book Review
asked two contemporary fiction writers which topics were underrepresented in their field.
One of them said, joy. We seem to have decided that despair, alienation, and bleakness are the
most meaningful and interesting descriptors of the human condition. We are suspicious of the joy
and fullness of life. And it's not just philosophers and fiction writers. More and more people are
despairing of ever finding lasting joy and hope. For the first time since the 1930s, the overall life
expectancy in the United States has decreased. And the primary reason for this is the dramatic
increase in the number of deaths of despair caused by drug overdose, alcohol abuse, and suicide.
Suicide is now the second leading cause of death among 15 to 34-year-olds in this country.
Last year, the Los Angeles Unified School District, the largest public school district in our country,
reported 5,000 incidents among its students of suicidal behavior or deliberate self-harm such as cutting.
More broadly, the number of Americans diagnosed with major depression is steadily increasing,
14 million as of last year. And for the first time again in generations, most younger Americans
believe that they will be worse off, not better off, than their parents.
One writer said, a society which believes in a worthwhile future saves in the present so as to
invest in the future. Contemporary Western society, both governments and individuals,
spends in the present and piles up deaths for the future.
And we think you only live once, so you might as well get what you can for as long as you can.
One, we struggle to identify a meaningful and enduring source of hope for the future,
that will govern our present experience of reality.
What is it that you hope for? What is it that keeps you going from one day to the next?
Is there an enduring source of hope that gives meaning to your life in the present from day to day?
Or is the object of your hope constantly shifting from one thing to another to another?
Or have you lost hope? You've resigned yourself to just existing without really having something to live for.
This morning's passage tells us that Christians live in hope. We hope for what we do not yet see,
and we wait for it with patience.
This morning I want to look at three things. I want to look at the glory that awaits us,
the struggle to keep waiting for it,
and the power we have to wait with eagerness and patience.
First, the glory that we're waiting for.
Our future hope as believers in Christ Jesus.
What is it that Christians can confidently hope for?
What Paul says in verse 23,
we wait eagerly for adoption as sons, the redemption of our bodies.
Now you might say, well, wait a minute.
How are we still waiting for our adoption and redemption?
I mean, didn't Paul just say, if you look back in verse 15 and 16,
that we are already adopted?
We have received the spirit of adoption.
The spirit himself bears witness with our spirit that we are children of God.
You know, we're not waiting to see whether God will graciously receive us into His family as His children.
We're not sort of like being in temporary foster care,
where you have a place to stay for now, but you really belong to somebody else.
No, the Bible says in John 1, 12,
to all who received Christ, to those who believed in His name,
God gave power to become children of God, born of God.
We can be secure in our status as God's adopted children,
welcomed into His family,
and our status as God's children is secure.
And you might say, well, haven't we already been redeemed?
We've been adopted.
We've already been redeemed, right?
Romans 3, 24 says,
we're justified by His grace as a gift through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus.
Ephesians 1, 7,
in Him we have redemption through His blood, the forgiveness of our sins.
But this verse, verse 23,
says that we are waiting for these things.
What does that mean?
Well, the word that's translated here, adoption as sons,
it's a combination of two words,
the word son and a verb that can mean make, become, or put in place.
In other words, it means being made a son,
becoming a son, taking one's place as a son.
All right, often this word refers to a child being adopted into a family.
And in the ancient Roman culture,
it was the son who received the privileges of full inheritance.
And so, Paul is saying that all God's children,
men and women alike,
receive the full privileges of an inheritance,
a spiritual inheritance in Christ.
But here this word,
becoming a son,
being made a son,
doesn't just refer to God's initial act of receiving us into His family.
That's what was referred to back in verse 15 and 16,
but also to God's final goal,
that as His children,
we would become,
as verse 29 says,
conformed to the image of His Son, Jesus.
What are we waiting for?
We wait for the day when we will see Jesus,
our Savior,
face to face,
as He is.
When we will be made completely like Him,
when we will reflect that beautiful image
that God's children were meant to bear.
From the very beginning,
we wait for the day
when we will take our rightful place
as heirs of God's kingdom
and rule over God's creation
in the new heavens and the new earth.
That's what verse 19 and 21 speak about.
The revealing of the sons of God,
when creation itself will attain
the freedom of the glory
of the children of God.
You might ask,
what exactly is this glory?
That word comes up a lot in the Bible
and quite a bit in this passage,
verse 18, verse 21.
What is this glory of God's children
that Paul is talking about?
Glory is a multifaceted concept,
but one aspect of glory
is being praised
and publicly approved of.
God's children are promised
the glory of being
known, loved,
and even praised
by God Himself.
Many years ago,
C.S. Lewis gave a sermon
entitled,
The Weight of Glory.
It's well worth reading.
You can find the full text online
for free if you Google it.
But listen to some of what he says
about this,
about glory,
the promise of glory.
He says,
nothing is so obvious in a child,
not in a conceited child,
but in a good child,
as its great and undisguised
pleasure in being praised.
Not only in a child either,
but even in a dog or a horse.
It is the humblest,
most childlike,
most creaturely of pleasures.
The pleasure of a beast
before men,
a child before her father,
a pupil before his teacher,
a creature before its creator.
And that is enough
to raise our thoughts
to what may happen
when our redeemed souls,
beyond all hope
and nearly beyond belief,
learn at last
that we have pleased him
whom we were created
to please.
There will be no room
for vanity then.
We will be free
from the miserable illusion
that it is our own doing.
We will most innocently rejoice
in the thing
that God has made us to be.
And the moment which heals
our old inferiority complex
will also drown
our pride forever.
The promise of glory
is the promise
almost incredible
and only possible
by the work of Christ
that some of us,
that any of us
who really chooses
shall actually please God.
To please God.
To be a real ingredient
in the divine happiness,
to be loved by God,
not merely pitied,
but delighted in
as an artist delights
in his work
or a father in a son.
It seems impossible.
A weight or burden of glory
which our thoughts
can hardly sustain,
but so it is.
In our first reading
this morning,
Peter said,
the tested genuineness
of your faith
will one day result
in praise and glory
and honor
at the revelation
of Jesus Christ.
This is one thing
that we're hoping for,
taking our place
as God's children,
heirs of His kingdom,
glorified.
But second,
Paul says,
we wait for the redemption
of our bodies.
You know,
we have redemption
through the blood of Christ.
We can know
the forgiveness
of our sins,
but Paul says,
we're looking forward
to the day
when our bodies
will be fully
and finally redeemed.
Think about what
that will be like.
Our bodies will no longer
be enticed
by the deceitfulness
of sin,
no longer defiled
by our past participation
in it.
No longer drawn
to repeat ungodly
and destructive patterns,
our bodies will be
cleansed and renewed
and purified
and resurrected.
Our bodies will no longer
bear the ugly scars
of trauma,
shame,
and abuse.
Revelation 21 says,
the former things
will pass away,
and the one who is seated
on the throne
will make all things new.
And He will wipe away
every tear from our eyes,
and there will be
no more mourning
or crying
or pain.
Our bodies will no longer
be prone to weakness
and sickness
and decay,
no longer vulnerable
to disability
and dementia
and disorientation.
We will be fully
and finally healed,
whole,
vigorous,
and strong.
Listen to C.S. Lewis
once again.
He says,
we are to shine
as the sun.
We are to be given
the morning star.
Scripture gives us
these promises.
In one way,
God has given us
the morning star already.
You can go and enjoy
the gift on many
fine mornings
if you get up early enough.
What more,
you may ask,
do we want?
Ah,
but we want so much more.
We do not merely
want to see beauty.
We want to be united
with the beauty we see,
to pass into it,
to receive it
into ourselves,
to bathe in it,
to become part of it,
but right now,
we can't.
We discern the freshness
and the beauty
of the morning,
but they do not make us
fresh and pure.
We cannot mingle
with the splendor
of the sun
that we see,
but it will not
always be so.
He says,
when human souls
have become
as perfect
in voluntary obedience
as the inanimate creation
is in its lifeless obedience,
and this is the promise
when we're conformed
to the image
of His Son,
then we will put
on its glory,
or rather,
that greater glory
of which nature
is only the first sketch.
We shall eat
of the tree of life.
The whole person
is to drink joy
from the fountain of joy.
The rapture
of the saved soul
will flow over
into the glorified body.
We cannot even imagine this.
We cannot even imagine
the glory
that we will have.
the security
we will feel
in being known
and loved
and approved of
and even praised
by God
who made us
by His grace.
It's not because
we merit this.
It's a gift
from beginning to end
and to share
in that beauty
that we only glimpse
and long for
in this world.
Consider the bodily
experience
of a baby,
an embryo,
a fetus
developing inside
her mother's womb.
Now, even though
none of us remember
being in our mother's womb,
research shows
that a baby
developing in her mother's womb
can actually experience
many things.
At only eight weeks,
the fetus responds
to touch
around her lips
and cheeks.
Around 11 weeks,
she begins exploring
her own body
and her surroundings
with her mouth,
hands,
and feet.
Ultrasounds show
babies at this stage
touching their buttocks,
holding on to the
umbilical cord,
turning,
walking up and down
the amniotic sac wall
on the inside.
At 13 weeks,
our sense of taste
is developed.
A fetus taste buds
look just like those
of a mature adult.
At 20 weeks,
the ears are well developed.
At 26 weeks,
the unborn child
responds to sound
and vibration.
Some studies even
indicate that infants
seem to recognize
some of what they have heard
while they were
in the womb,
after they come out.
of the womb,
whether it's a piece
of music
or a certain book.
But then contrast
that experience
of a baby developing
in her mother's womb
to a child born
into the world
and growing
into an adult.
Seeing,
breathing,
eating,
crying,
cooing,
speaking,
crawling,
walking,
running,
thinking,
feeling,
communicating
ever more deeply.
Here's the point.
compared to the
resurrection life,
the glory
of the promised life
in the world to come,
compared to the day
when our bodies
will be redeemed
and we will be fully
conformed to the image
of Christ,
our experience
in this present world
is only the prenatal stages.
That's why Paul says
in verse 18,
I consider that our
present sufferings
are not worth comparing.
We can't even fathom
what this glory
will be like
when we become
the glorified,
fully alive
children of God
in the resurrected
world.
And just as much
as you cannot explain,
there is no way
that you can explain
to a fetus
developing
in a mother's womb
how glorious
it will be
to emerge,
how glorious
it will be
to breathe in the air
and taste delicious food
and see a brilliant sunset
and speak to a fellow
human being
and contemplate
the greatness
of our Creator.
So much less
can we fathom
the glory
of the resurrection life
that Christ promises
to all who trust in Him
in the world to come.
But so real it will be.
That's our future hope.
It's glorious.
We can't see it.
We can't even fathom it,
but it's going to be glorious.
But as Paul unpacks
the glory that awaits us,
he also acknowledges
the struggle
to keep waiting for it.
This is our second point.
Struggle to keep waiting.
Verse 24.
In hope we were saved.
Now hope that is seen
is not hope,
for who hopes
for what he sees,
but we hope
for what we do not see.
One commentator pointed out
Paul seems to repeat
himself three times here,
making a rather obvious point.
But Paul isn't stuttering,
and he's not repeating himself
while he tries to figure out
what to say next.
He's intentionally acknowledging
and underlining
that living in light
of the Christian hope
is hard
because we don't see
that which we hope for.
No eye has seen,
no ear has heard,
nor heart imagined
what God has prepared
for those who love him.
And as we live
in the murky shadows
of this present evil age,
the hope that Christ promises
can at times seem distant
and vague
and even unreal
to our clouded
spiritual eyes.
I've been reading
the Chronicles of Narnia
with my kids recently,
and earlier this week
we were reading a chapter
in The Silver Chair.
In that book,
Jill and Eustace
and Puddleglum
have embarked
on a dangerous journey
through the wild
wastelands of the north
in order to find
a lost prince
that many other people
have disappeared
trying to find.
But Aslan
has sent them
on this mission.
Aslan had directed them
to search for a ruined city
of the ancient giants,
and he had told them
to follow his instructions
carefully
to repeat them
morning and evening
every single day
so they wouldn't forget them.
But they've been traveling
for many days,
and the weather's
getting colder and colder,
the terrain is getting
more and more difficult
to navigate,
every night they're
sleeping on the ground,
huddling together
under blankets,
and waking up
with frost
on top of the blankets.
They're freezing.
Suddenly,
in the middle of nowhere,
they meet a beautiful woman
riding on a horse.
They have no idea
who she is
or where she comes from,
but she's right there,
right in front of them,
and she promises them,
she tells them,
about a place
called the Castle
of Harfang.
And she says,
in the Castle of Harfang,
you can enjoy
hot baths
and soft beds
and bright fireplaces
and four hot meals
a day.
And almost immediately,
the focus of their hope
shifts.
Says they could think
of nothing but beds
and baths
and hot meals
and how lovely
it would be
to get indoors.
They never talked
any more about Aslan
or even about
the lost prince
whom they were sent
to find.
And Jill gave up
her habit of repeating
Aslan's signs
to herself
every night and morning.
At first,
she said she was
just too tired,
but she soon forgot
all about it.
And though you might
have expected
that the idea
of having a good time
at Harfang
might have made
them more cheerful,
it really made them
more sorry for themselves
and more grumpy
and snappy
with each other.
Isn't that the temptation
we face
when the Christian life
gets hard?
When the journey
seems like
we're trudging
through a frigid wasteland
and we haven't yet seen
what we're hoping for.
We don't feel
the presence of God
near to us
in the way we have
at other times.
We take our eyes
off Jesus
and the grand mission
He has given us
and the glorious hope
He has set before us
and instead we fix
our hope on something else.
That seems closer at hand,
more attainable,
more tangible,
more satisfying.
Instead of present sufferings
and future glory,
our priority becomes
comfort now.
Present relief
from our losses
and crosses
and unwanted burdens.
So we fix our hope
on a job
or a relationship
that we can see
instead of the God
whom we can't see.
Sometimes we stay
in unhealthy
and ungodly
dating relationships
for way too long
for this very reason.
at least I have
somebody in this world
that I can hold on to.
But Jesus says,
you may not be able
to see me now
but I love you
more than anyone else
in the world
ever will.
I shed my blood for you.
I poured out
my life for you.
I'm for you,
not against you.
Hold on to me.
Some of you
may be married.
Marriage has been hard
for a long time.
And you have little hope
that the other person
will change.
And Jesus says,
don't fix your eyes
on what you can see.
Trust me.
I know what it's like
to be married
to a self-centered spouse.
The church is my bride
after all.
All of us.
So I'm with you
every step of the way.
Even when it seems
like a frigid wasteland,
I'm teaching you to love
not as your spouse
loves you
but as I have loved you.
Sometimes we can even
redefine in our own minds
what the Christian hope
is really about.
Some churches say
Jesus didn't primarily come
to give us eternal life
in the age to come.
He came to give us
our best life now.
Other churches
emphasize above all else
the Christian mandate
to pursue social justice,
to be the change
you want to see
in this world.
Now these are important
and biblical concerns.
Jesus doesn't promise
financial prosperity
but He does say
to His disciples
that He's come
to give us abundant life.
And the Bible
does call us
to do justly
and love mercy
and walk humbly
before our God.
But Paul says
in 1 Corinthians 15,
if we have hope
for life in this world only,
we are of all people
most to be pitied.
Verse 18, Paul says,
our present existence,
sufferings included,
cannot compare
to the future glory.
Yes, this life matters
but 70, 80, 90 years
compared to all eternity,
it's a drop in the bucket.
We need to let
our future hope
of glory
in Christ
shape our present reality
instead of allowing
our present experience
and sufferings
to eclipse
our future hope.
We need to recover
the eternal perspective
that the Christian church
in the prosperous West
is in danger of losing.
I would dare say
that most Christians
in the Western world
think more about
preparing for retirement
than about preparing
for eternity.
Many people,
including many Christians,
say things like,
I hope I just die
in my sleep someday,
quickly and painlessly.
I want to enjoy my life.
I want to be as active
as I can
for as long as I can.
I want to complete
my career,
enjoy my retirement,
and then when death comes
I want to be gone quick,
and then, yeah,
I'll go to be with Jesus
or whatever happens next.
But that is a far cry
from how other Christians
in other times and places
have approached death
and dying
and eternity.
Francis of Assisi
in the Middle Ages
said this.
He said,
reflect and see
that the day of death
is approaching.
When he became
seriously ill,
he had dropsy,
his body became
full of fluid,
he insisted that his doctor
tell him the truth
about his prognosis.
The doctor gave one
of those nice answers.
He says,
by the grace of God,
all will be well.
Francis says,
tell me the truth.
What's your medical opinion?
I know God can heal me
if He wants to,
but let's be honest here.
And the doctor said,
in my opinion,
you probably have
about a few months
left to live.
And he said,
thank you.
And he rejoiced
because he was so
looking forward
to going and being
with Christ.
And he spent the rest
of his life
praying and praising
God more and more
and planning
for the future
of the order
he had founded.
Or consider one
of the Puritans,
Leonard Hoare.
He was the president
of Harvard.
It was before
Yale existed.
So we can excuse him.
He prayed for many years
that Lord willing,
he would die
of a consumptive
and lingering distemper.
In other words,
a chronic
and incurable disease
that would gradually
progress over
a long period of time.
Why in the world
would he pray
repeatedly
for such an awful thing?
His answer was,
so I can intentionally
prepare for eternity.
To turn away
from the passing
pleasures
of this present world,
to fix my affections
on Jesus Christ alone,
and to exhort
my family and friends
to take account
of the shortness
of their lives
in light of the shortness
of my own,
and to live in light
of eternity
and not get lost
focusing on this present age.
This is the eternal perspective
the Apostle Paul had
in Philippians 1
when he said,
to live is Christ
and to die is gain.
My desire is to depart
and be with Christ
for that is far better.
But he said,
to remain in the flesh
is more necessary
on your account.
You see,
if you say today,
I want to go
and be with Christ,
that'd be my choice.
It'd be far better.
People start worrying
you're suicidal.
Paul was not suicidal.
It is not the same thing.
Paul says,
we have hope
for this life
and the life to come.
God's put me here
on this earth.
I have a purpose
for being here.
He says,
it's necessary
for me to remain here
on your account.
God's put me here
so that I can serve others.
He has given me a mission
and I'm going to complete
that mission
and trust Him
every step of the way
even if I don't see
what in the world it is.
But my hope
is ultimately fixed
on being with Christ
for all eternity.
So there's a glory
that awaits us.
There's a struggle
to keep waiting for it.
And third,
Paul indicates
where we get the power
to keep on waiting,
to wait eagerly
and patiently.
Verse 23 says,
we wait eagerly
and verse 25 says,
we wait with patience.
We can wait eagerly
because we have
the first fruits
of the Spirit.
Verse 23.
Paul tells us
that though we do not
yet see the fullness
of the glory
that we hope for,
we do enjoy
the first fruits
of the Spirit.
The first fruits
is an agricultural metaphor
that's used throughout
the Old and New Testaments.
Basically,
the first fruits
is the first batch
of crops
of the season.
They indicated
the kind of harvest
that was sure
and soon to follow.
And Paul says,
the Holy Spirit
who indwells us
as believers in Jesus
is the first fruits
of our future glory.
The appetizers
of the heavenly banquet
to come.
Ephesians,
Paul communicates
the same idea
using an economic metaphor.
He says,
the Holy Spirit
is the pledge
or the first installment
or the down payment
on our inheritance
as children of God.
We have a very real
present experience
of the Holy Spirit,
His goodness
and power now.
And this very real
present experience
is simultaneously
the guarantee
of the future glory
that is even greater
to come
that we hope for
and yet do not see.
What does this look like
to have the first fruits
of the Spirit?
Well, it means
that the Holy Spirit
brings some of the content
of our future hope,
that glory,
into the reality
of our present experience.
Even now,
we can begin
to know the glory
of being loved
and approved of
by God.
And when Jesus
was baptized
in the Jordan River,
the Father's voice
spoke to Him
from heaven
and said,
You are my Son,
my beloved.
With you,
I am well pleased.
And when we are baptized
into Christ
through faith
in Him,
those words
are spoken to us too.
God the Father
publicly and visibly
claims us as His own.
He says,
You are my beloved child.
I have adopted you
in Christ with you.
I am well pleased.
So you can look back
to the day
that when you were baptized
and remember
that God has given you
the first fruits
of His Spirit.
It's a seal.
It's a sign.
We can rest
in His love for us.
We can long
for the day
when He will say to us
at the end
of our earthly pilgrimage,
Well done,
good and faithful servant.
Enter now
into the joy
of your Master.
We can begin
to know that glory.
We can begin
to taste
of the heavenly banquet
to come.
We're going to take
the Lord's Supper
in a few minutes.
And when we take
the bread and the cup,
the symbols
of the body
and blood of Christ,
our Savior,
when we feed on Him
by faith
and ask Him
to fill us afresh
with His Spirit,
we taste and see
that the Lord is good
and we long
for the day
when we'll feast
with Him
in His kingdom.
We can even begin
to experience
the redemption
of our bodies.
Maybe you've experienced
God graciously
restoring your body
to health
after a season
of sickness
or stress
through whatever means.
Maybe it was
a miraculous healing
in response to prayer.
Maybe it's through
natural means
that God has provided
like exercise
and diet and sleep.
God has made
those things too.
Maybe it's through
medical treatments
and the wisdom
that God has given
to your doctors.
Maybe it's all three.
Whatever the means
God uses,
we can praise Him
for our health
and we can look forward
to the day
when our bodies
will be fully redeemed
and forever healed.
Or when we experience
a new freedom
from formerly besetting sins.
When we gain new insights
into God's glory
and grace.
When we receive new power
to serve and to speak
in the name of Christ.
All of these
are the first fruits
of the Spirit.
Paul's encouragement
to us is,
brothers and sisters,
let every taste
of glory,
every experience
of the first fruits
of the Spirit
motivate us
to await with eagerness
the future glory
that God has promised
to us
and to not tire
of hoping
and looking forward
and anticipating that
and enjoying
the first fruits
of that.
Our passage
this morning
ends not just
with eagerness
but also with patience.
The end of verse 25.
We wait
with patience.
That word means
with resoluteness,
with steadfast endurance,
continuing
to bear up
despite present
difficulties.
How can we wait
not only eagerly
but also patiently?
Well,
verse 26 tells us
that the Spirit
helps us
in our weakness.
Now,
Pastor Matt's going
to get into that theme
next week.
I don't want to try
to steal his sermon,
but I want to make
one point
that spans
the passage
Pastor Nick preached
on last week
and the passage
Pastor Matt's
preaching on next week
and the passage
that I'm preaching
on this week.
I want you to notice
a word
that is repeated
three times.
Verse 22,
verse 23,
verse 26,
groaning.
Now,
throughout the Bible,
groaning is connected
with three things,
oppression,
prayer,
and childbirth.
So,
in the book of Exodus,
the people groaned
in the midst
of their oppression
in Egypt
and God heard
their cries.
In the Psalms,
many of the Psalms,
the Psalm writers,
the Psalms of Lament,
they lay their groanings.
Sometimes it's translated
sighings
before the Lord.
In prayer.
And several times
in Scripture,
groaning is connected
with childbirth.
Verse 22 says,
the whole creation
has been groaning
together in the pains
of childbirth.
Literally,
it's groaning
and travailing
like a woman
in childbirth.
Why?
Why is creation groaning?
Because it's been
subjected to futility
and it can't fix itself.
Creation is longing
to be set free
but it can't free itself.
And then in verse 23,
same word comes up,
God's children.
We ourselves groan inwardly.
We groan under the weight
of our fallenness.
We long to be set free
but we can't fix ourselves either.
But in verse 26,
the Holy Spirit Himself
intercedes for us
with groanings.
So here's the picture.
The whole creation groans.
Within the creation,
God's children groan.
And within God's children,
God's Spirit who indwells us groans.
The picture is of God
renewing the whole universe
from the inside out
through the indwelling Holy Spirit.
God's creation,
God's children,
and even God's Spirit
are compared to a woman in labor
who through painful anguish
brings forth new life.
And the Holy Spirit brings life,
gives birth to the children of God
and the glorified children of God
in turn lead the creation
into joyful praise.
Now here's the point.
We can wait patiently
because even in our deepest moments
of anguish and pain,
the Holy Spirit dwells within us,
bringing forth through our anguish and pain
life and freedom and glory
in ways that we can't even imagine.
Wesley Hill describes this experience
in his book,
Washed and Waiting.
He writes,
so much of my life as a Christian
has simply been learning how to wait,
to be patient,
to endure,
to bear up under an unwelcome burden
for the long haul.
Taped onto my desk is a quote,
Be patient toward all
that is unsolved in your heart.
Having patience with your own weaknesses
is something of what Paul was commending
when he described the tension
of living on this side of wholeness.
When God acts climatically
to reclaim the world
and raise our dead bodies from the grave,
there will be no more weakness,
no more disorder,
no more temptation,
but until then,
we hope for what we do not see.
We are washed and waiting.
This is our life as Christians,
our identity as people
who've been forgiven
and spiritually cleansed,
and our struggle as people
who persevere,
sometimes with frustrating thorns
in our flesh,
looking forward to what God
has promised to do.
We live in hope
for what we do not see.
We can wait with eagerness
because we have the fruit,
fruits of the Spirit.
We've tasted that glory
that is to come,
and we can wait with patience
because the Holy Spirit
dwells deep within us
and is groaning,
and in our deepest moments
of anguish and pain
is bringing life and freedom
and joy and glory out of them
in ways we can't even fathom.
So we can say with the Apostle Paul
in 2 Corinthians,
therefore we do not lose heart.
Though our outer self
may be wasting away,
our inner self
is being renewed day by day.
For this light,
momentary affliction
is preparing for us
an eternal weight of glory
beyond all comparison.
As we look not to the things
that are seen,
but to the things
that are unseen.
For the things that are seen
are transient,
but the things that are unseen
are eternal.
Let's pray.
Father,
we pray that by Your Spirit
dwelling in us,
You would renew
our hope
and fix it
once again
clearly
on You.
We pray that we would trust
Your promise
of this unfathomable glory
that awaits us.
We pray that You would be
near us
in our struggle
to keep on waiting
for it
and not
to turn our hopes
toward lesser things.
We thank You
for Jesus
and we thank You
for Your Spirit.
We pray in Christ's name.
Amen.