Text: Romans 8: 18-25
There’s a country western song by Brad Paisley. It begins like this:
Sittin’ on a bench at West Town Mall
He sat down in his overalls and asked me
“You waitin’ on a woman?”
I nodded, yeah and said, “How ’bout you”
He said, “Son since nineteen fifty-two
I’ve been waitin’ on a woman”
The Christian faith is a conscious kind of living. The apostle Paul said it this way. The life I live, I live by faith in the Son of God who loved me and gave himself for me. So faith in Jesus is about living. It’s about living as a child of God and living through what can be some tough times.
But it’s also about waiting. You hear that word again and gain in these verses. Waiting. What kind of waiting? Not like we wait in line at the DMV. Not like waiting in the dentist chair to hear the sound of that drill. More like the words of that song. Waitin’ on a woman. His wife.
In Jesus, we’re waitin’ for something far better than we experience now. We’re waiting for a day to come that God promises his people. Not a day when things will get a little better or more tolerable. But a Day when we will see Jesus and join together in saying: This is the Lord. We trusted in Him and he saved us. This is the Lord. Let us rejoice and be glad in our salvation.
Well here Paul says some things about our waiting. I say it this way:
Theme: While Waitin’ for that Day…
I. We groan with all of creation
II. We hope for something ‘out of sight’
If you were to visit some churches, listen to the music and the message, you might get this impression. That Christians go around bubbling over with joy all the time. And when you don’t there’s something wrong with you. Don’t get me wrong. We Christians have so much reason for joy. We are so blessed. But there are times, when we groan. We groan under the weight of what Paul speaks of here. Our present suffering.
We know it well. It comes in all shapes and sizes. There is that suffering that makes no distinction between believer and unbeliever as we pass through this fallen world. The drought that ruins all the farmer’s fields. The recession that puts many out of work and out of their homes. There is that suffering that comes to all. So the need for hospitals, even children’s hospitals. Those times when we find ourselves at the bedside of loved one. We can feel helpless and wish it were somehow possible to take their place or share their pain. But we can’t. And then there comes that time of grief and loss. We Christians groan at times under that weight.
But there is also a present kind of suffering that comes only to Jesus’ people. I’m thinking of two things here. The first is this. That struggle that goes on inside us. That sinful nature that shows up with a truckload of selfishness or lust or anger. And too often I’ve let it deliver. So I look at my life and groan.
And there’s that second thing. Everyone who wants to live a godly life in Christ Jesus, will be persecuted. (2Tim3:12) And so yes, we rejoice that Miriam Ibrahim once under a death sentence in the Sudan, is now safe in New Hampshire. But how many more believers have had to flee the city of Mosul in Iraq. How many more have seen their churches ransacked and turned into mosques, their homes looted, their lives threatened. Not just there. Look at the world map and see how unfriendly this world can be to Christians. So we groan, even if it’s not you and me who are suffering. We groan as we think of our brothers and sisters in Christ.
And here Paul paints an interesting picture. This creation also groans: 22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. We know the sad, sad story of our first parents Adam and Eve. How they chose a path of sin and unbelief and brought sin’s curse upon themselves and us. Pain and toil became part of their lives and ours. God made it part of their lives. And as the Lord told them: From dust you came, to dust you will return. Words that now describe us all.
But their sin did not just bring sad consequences to every man and woman. As Paul says here, This creation was also subjected to frustration…and decay. This planet with all its beauty and variety was meant to be a constant source of life and blessing for us. But now we see something else. We see how sooner or later everything goes down to death and decay. Our beloved dog, our dear cat, that beautiful tree we enjoy, all die. So here Paul pictures creation as groaning. Groaning with us. While waitin’ for that Day. We groan with all of creation.
Yet we do not groan like a slave who sees no future, no hope, no escape. We do not groan as if nothing will change, as if this is all there is. And here Paul uses a picture that says it well. The pains of childbirth. With the coming of a child, there is pain, sometimes much pain and groaning. But that groaning is not just about pain. It’s about hope. Hope for something not yet seen, but a child well on his/her way. And if I might use the words of my generation. A hope that is out of sight, out of sight in more ways than one. Well that’s us who also groan. While waitin’ for that Day, we hope for something ‘out of sight.’
When God’s Word says hope, he means more than just wishing. He means we are waiting for this. We look forward to it. But what gives us that right? Doesn’t the Bible say: The wages of sin is death? Doesn’t it say: there is no one righteous not even one? How can we have this hope? Listen to Paul: In this hope, we were saved. We have this hope because the Son of God saved us. He became our brother. Then He lived for us and one day took our sins, our guilt to that cross. And then he rose from his grave. God raised him to show us that every sin is paid for and forgiven. And now because he lives we can live our lives in this sure and certain hope.
How does Paul describe it? Look at the tail end of verse 21. The glorious freedom of the children of God. That day when the sons [and daughters] of God will be revealed. That day when we will be rescued and set free. Just think of that day. No longer will we walk around with those regrets. Why did I say that? Why didn’t I do that? No longer will we suffer that darkness of depression or be troubled with some compulsion that refuses to go away. No longer will knees give out and eyesight grow dim. And no longer will that merciless enemy called death stalk us and our loved ones through life. For on that day, death will be swallowed up in victory.
And when we see Jesus, this creation will also be set free. This world will be liberated to be what it was intended to be. Not a place where the big one is to be feared. Not a place where we need insurance against some fire or flood that ruins us. And no longer will the fields of this world give us food only to see us return to its dust. For there will be a new heavens and a new earth. And we will be with our Lord forever.
That is our Christian hope. It’s not something we can hold in our hands or even see from a distance. It’s out of sight. But it’s also out of sight in another way. Just plain awesome.
So we wait eagerly, Paul writes. Or do we? How easy it is in a land like ours to not wait eagerly. How easy it is to let this hope collect dust in our hearts. But then comes those words from the doctor no one wants to hear. Then comes that phone call. Then comes that recognition that this life is short and because of sin is not so happily ever after.
But thanks be to God. The Holy Spirit does not leave us to lie in a slimy pit of despair. No he lifts us up. He helps us to remember what Paul says here. I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. Not worth comparing. That’s sort of like me when I played high school football. I was not worth comparing to a Joe Montana or a Colin Kaepernick or even the star of my team. You can say that about any trouble that comes into your life. That hurt, that trouble is not worth comparing. It’s not worth comparing to what God gives you the right to look forward to.
So let these words of the psalmist be your own. Better yet, let’s say them together. Repeat after me. I wait for the Lord, /my soul waits/ and in his Word,/ I put my hope. Amen.