Romans 8:32 “Trying”

Here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

³²He who did not spare even His own Son but delivered Him on behalf of us all, how shall He not also with Him freely give to us all things?

 We’re still answering Paul’s question from v.31, “What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?” To this he adds, “He who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?”

I have been pondering these words and praying over them for days. It would seem to me this is probably the most profound question any believer could ask themself, especially in the midst of pain and trouble. However, as I try to ponder the words, it’s almost as if my proud, stubborn heart has suddenly become an unassailable citadel. As I try to let the light of these words shine into my life, it’s as if something inside of me is determined to keep the door locked and bolted tight. I find it monumentally true that this heart of mine is “desperately wicked and deceitful above all things.”  That same passage (Jer. 17:9,10) then asks, “Who can know it?” Fortunately, it goes on to say, “I the Lord search the heart.” As a believer, I have the privilege of saying to Him, “Rescue me from my enemies, for they are too strong for me. Set me free from my prison, that I may praise your name” (Ps. 142:6,7).

What I’m trying to do is treat this verse like an altar. “He who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?” I’m trying one by one to take anything I “don’t like” in my life and lay it on this altar. For instance, I don’t like that I can’t run fast anymore. Anyone can retort, “You’re 66, Don. What do you expect?” My answer would be, “I don’t care how old I am. I don’t like not being able to run like the wind.” I don’t like it. I can pray and ask the Lord to give me my speed back, fully realizing I’m asking for a miracle. That doesn’t bother me as I am fully convinced He has the power to do anything. It is true, it would be a miracle, but all He has to do is say, “Yes,” and it would be so. So, along with a few thousand other miracles I’d like to see in my life, I ask for this one. However, I ask and yet I’m still old and stiff and slow.

I don’t like it. What am I to do? I drag this “don’t like” thing kicking and screaming and try to get it on the altar of these words. Yes, I don’t like it. Yes, though I pray, the Lord doesn’t take it away. He could, but He doesn’t. It’s all very unpleasant. However, what happens when I lay it (or should I say try to lay it) on the altar of Rom. 8:32? “He who spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for us all, how shall He not with Him also freely give us all things?” The Father already gave His Son for me. He already gave His precious, beloved Son to redeem this proud wretched sinner. “But God commends His love toward us in that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us” (Rom. 5:8).

What I think should happen is an explosion of encouragement. Instead, what I find is that there is the faintest sense of a glimmer of hope, a hint of a quieting of my soul. Somehow I am keenly aware that this is a place of being still and knowing that He is God. Again, I think there ought to be an explosion, but honestly there is not. I rather suspect once again that is the hardness of my heart, so I say, “Lord, I do believe; help my unbelief.” I do believe that God the Father “spared not His own Son, but delivered Him up for me,” that having already spent His Son, there is no good thing He would withhold from me. Whatever is, whatever is not, it has to be for my eternal good. His grace is ours not only in what He gives, but also in what He withholds.

Someone may have read this and thought my running example is silly, irrelevant, petty, whatever. My answer to you is this: I could have said I was dying of cancer or just lost a loved one. Romans 8:32 certainly does and needs to apply to the horrific trials we face in life. However, if we would actually walk with God, we need to bring faith with us into our humdrum everyday lives. God cares about every detail. He cares as much about our little annoyances as He does our overwhelming disasters. It would be a terrible waste of encouragement to leave Romans 8:32 lying on a shelf, waiting for the next horrific trial to come crashing through our lives.

Hebrews 5:14 says that “strong meat belongs to them that by reason of use have their senses exercised to discern good and evil.” “By reason of use.” I would actually suggest to you that all those “little” problems, all those seemingly unimportant “don’t likes” are in a sense where you and I practice trusting God. My hope would be that, if I’ve been trying to trust God in the little annoyances and fears of my everyday, then when those brutal trials come, I’ll be stronger, more ready and able to see the Lord in it – precisely because I’ve already made a habit of trying to put His promises to work.

And so I go on. I will try to consciously place all of my troubles on the altar of this wonderful truth. Where I find nothing but a glimmer of hope, I will simply pray for His help and then try to go on in the calm assurance of His love. Abba, Father!

 

 

Romans 8:31 “What Shall We Say?”

Here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

³¹Therefore, what shall we say toward these things? If God [is] on behalf of us, who [can be] down upon us?

I want to slow down and actually consider Paul’s question here. “What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?”

Well, what shall we say?

Here we are each in our own world swirling with joys and sorrows, good days and bad days, good memories and bad, dreams and fears, plans we’ve made while in other ways feeling down-right confused, with no idea where we’re going. Into that world, the Lord places before us Romans 1 through 8, the Gospel. And what has that told us? Everything that really matters. It has told us clearly what is our problem, what’s wrong with us and what’s wrong with this world. It tells us what’s really going on in this world – our world – is a massive spiritual conflict of eternal consequence. And it tells us that our God reigns over it all, that He Himself has provided the answer to it all in the Person of His Son Jesus Christ, that in Jesus, we have the glorious opportunity to become God’s own children, to step into a place of total security, where we can live even in our swirling world, knowing we’ve been foreknown, predestined, called, justified, and even glorified!

What shall we say to these things?

What shall we say?

I honestly think the first thing we should say is nothing at all. If you or I really comprehend the enormity of all of this, how can we but sit in silent wonder, at a complete loss for words, counting on the blessed Holy Spirit to do what only He can do, expressing it all for us to the Father in “groans that words cannot express” (v.26).  In fact, perhaps the only words which are appropriate are those He gives us,  “Abba, Father!”

Yet still the question remains, “What shall we then say to these things?” Like Mary, sitting at Jesus’ feet, at some point we do have to stand up and get on with it. As I sit here myself, I’m thinking the answer to that question is faith itself. Do I believe Romans 1-8? Is God really absolutely in control? Is the problem with this world really sin? Is the entire answer really to be found in Jesus? Can I totally trust this God of the Gospel? Can I believe He really is working all things together for my good? Can I believe that He is for me, and therefore nothing can really be against me?

If yes, then why should I fear? As I look into His eyes, I feel Him asking me as He did Peter, “Why did you doubt?” Why did I? Why do I? As I think about Romans 1-8, there really is no need for fear.

However, isn’t that exactly the point where we should be? Especially in difficult times, is that not exactly what I need to do? Do I not need to look my fears straight in the face, then, on the other hand, to consider the truths of the Bible and ask myself, “Which will it be? Will I let fear control me, or will I allow the truths of the Gospel to lift my heart to faith in God?”

If I may run ahead, I even think Romans 12-16 give us a practical answer to this question. In 12:1,2, Paul says, “Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship. Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—His good, pleasing and perfect will.” He goes on all the way to chapter 16 with many practical applications, many ways to do just that, to be transformed. It means we really can live Paul’s admonition to Timothy, “God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a well-ordered mind” (II Tim. 1:7).

“What shall we then say to these things? If God be for us, who can be against us?”

What shall we say?

What shall we do?

Sit in wonder, then rise up to try again – to try again to live this life of faith, this life driven by my trust in God.

 

Romans 8:30 “Glorified?”

Here’s my fairly literal translation of these verses:

³⁰And whom He predestined, them He also called;

           and whom He called, them He also justified;

      and whom He justified, them He also glorified.

One more thing I’d like to note that I have never seen before. Notice those last four words, “them He also glorified.”

Glorified.

Glorified. Me? That’s what it says.

Of course, God alone is worthy of glory. Jesus is the One before  whom “every knee shall bow, in heaven and on earth” (Phil. 2:10). Back in Daniel’s vision He was given “authority, glory and sovereign power; all peoples, nations and men of every language worshiped Him” (7:14). Even in heaven, what do people do with the crowns they’ve been given? “Whenever the living creatures give glory, honor and thanks to Him who sits on the throne and who lives for ever and ever, the twenty-four elders fall down before Him who sits on the throne, and worship Him who lives for ever and ever. They lay their crowns before the throne and say, ‘You are worthy, our Lord and God, to receive glory and honor and power…’” (Rev. 4:9-11). Those crowns represent a part of the “glory” that God is willing to bestow on believers, but, even having received them, those men and women never forget who is truly “the worthy One.”

Okay. So we all understand that the Lord is the only One truly worthy, the only One worthy to be glorified. And yet what does He say about us? We’ve not only been called and justified, we’ve been glorified. Glorified. Of course we all know about the crowns. We’ve read many times “Blessed is the man who perseveres under trial, because when he has stood the test, he will receive the crown of life that God has promised to those who love Him” (Ja. 1:12). We are all aware that we may receive crowns in heaven. We know there will be some sort of recognition, but then I’ve never noticed that the Lord states it so bluntly, that He glorifies us.

What is amazing me is the realization that He doesn’t have to do that. God is under no obligation to grant “glory” to anyone. He is the One who is great. He is God. He is infinite. I’m just a man, a created man, very weak and fragile at best, a rotten rebellious sinner at my worst. He owes me nothing. He could go on being “great,” grant none of it to us, and be perfectly just in doing it. Yet what does it say? “Whom He justified, them He also glorified.”

How many “great” people spend their time trying to make “great” those who serve them? Wouldn’t it be a very rare thing indeed to observe a “great” person, like a famous movie star or singer, or a basketball player or quarterback, who was known for working hard to elevate the others around them? “Making great,” of course, is the parents’ heart. From the time a good parent (and especially the mother) knows they’ve conceived a child, their entire soul becomes consumed with the welfare of that child. The prayers start shooting to heaven, the budget gets re-arranged, the house gets re-arranged, the schedule gets re-arranged, and that parent would literally die first before any harm ever came to that child. That parent, though they may be “great” themselves at whatever, will live first and foremost to see their child become the “great” one. (I realize there are way too many wicked parents in this world of whom none of this is true, but I’m not talking about them. I’m talking about good parents).

If we think about a parent’s heart, I believe we can understand God’s heart here. He created me. He made me His child. He wants me to cry, “Abba, Father!” And what has He been doing ever since? Working “all things together” for my “good.” He wants me to be glorified. As with a parent, it doesn’t take from their “glory” to give glory to their child. In fact, this universe works exactly opposite of that. What does it do for any parent to have a child who rises to any kind of greatness? It makes us enormously proud and, though we never sought it, it makes others admire us when they see our children do well. Their “glory” only adds to ours!

So, I can understand God’s heart here.

But I’m still amazed.

Me? Glorified? How utterly humbling is that – to think the Lord of glory wants me to be glorified? Just think about it: Not only justified. That would be amazing, that a sinner like me should be forgiven and made a child of God, but … glorified?

What an astoundingly kind God He is!

I’ve noted before that Eph. 2:6,7 tells us “God raised us up with Christ, and seated us with Him in the heavenly realms in Christ Jesus, in order that in the coming ages He might show the incomparable riches of His grace, expressed in His kindness to us in Christ Jesus.” God is glorified in His kindness to us, and what does Rom. 8:30 tells us that kindness includes? Glorifying us.

What an incredible kindness. I’m sitting here looking Him in the eyes and I feel such a swirl of emotions. At the same time, it is enormously humbling. I’m painfully aware of how unworthy I am of such kindness. Then it just makes me want to sit here praising Him. Then it makes me feel so loved. Then it makes me want to rise to whatever it is He wants me to be and do. Just the thought that He would glorify me, makes every corner of my soul want to lay a crown at His feet!

Now we remember, what is the context of this passage? Suffering. Everything the Lord says here in this passage we call the pinnacle of the Bible – it’s all in the context of suffering. This wonder that I am feeling as I look in His eyes and ponder that He would glorify me – that wonder is another of His kindnesses, something that can and should sustain my heart even as I face this world’s seemingly endless cruelty and pain and trouble!

I have for a while been thinking about that illustration that our lives are each (and together) a great Divine tapestry that the Lord is daily weaving. I’m keenly aware that all we see is the “underside” of the tapestry. And what do we see? It’s a mess.  I look at my own life and yes, that’s about the best I can see – the underside of a tapestry, a shapeless mangle of colored threads. A mess. However, in that Day, when we get to look down from above instead up from beneath, what will we see? A beautiful tapestry! A tapestry of the Lord’s weaving! That’s part of the glory we’re talking about in Rom. 8:30! Our Lord is so great and so kind, He can take even the mess that we are, and the mess we seem to be weaving, and yet turn it into something truly beautiful.

Wow.

Lord, You alone are worthy of glory and honor and power, but thank you that you would raise me up, that you would take even the mess of who I am, and make something out of me. And it’s almost hard fo me to acknowledge this, but You said it, that You will actually glorify me.

Wow.

“All praise to Him, who reigns above,

in majesty supreme,

Who gave His Son for man to die,

that He might man redeem.

Blessed be the name!”