You won’t obey God’s law, until you understand that you don’t have to. Come Sunday! We’ll worship Jesus and consider God’s grace.
My daughter finished her degree in art education this past May and is moving into her new apartment in Alpharetta. We were helping her move, and I noticed a deformed coffee mug on her shelf. Upon asking her about it, she told me that it was a failed ceramics project that she sent to the kiln to keep as a reminder of what she was learning, how it frustrated her, and that beauty is not always found in perfection. This is not a mug she can use, but it is a mug that has meaning.
In the next paragraph of Romans 9, the Apostle explains why God would be patient with sinners and rebels. These “vessels…prepared for destruction” communicate something to us, God’s children, about His glory, power, and grace. In fact, His patience and redemptive mercy speaks volumes to us about Him. Join us Sunday as we consider this passage and enter the sanctuary of mercy!
Jacob and Esau have done nothing good or bad, and yet God loves Jacob and hates (rejects) Esau. Is this fair? Is this just? In our text, Paul anticipates this response to his teaching on God’s sovereign election. The reason this rubs us wrong is that we begin with a premise. We don’t believe that as Adam’s descendants, all we deserve is the eternal outpouring of God’s wrath. Shouldn’t our good works count for something? Shouldn’t God compare my life to others and see that I’m not as bad as I could be?
Religious people, believers, carry this self-righteousness into the church. The church becomes a gathering of relatively good people who worship God for giving them that little something extra they need to be reconciled to him or for forgiving their minor transgressions. Then a real sinner walks in! How are they perceived? Are they received?
I have a ministry friend who grew up here in Georgia and started his tenure in jail as a juvenile. As he aged, he was in and out of prison for most of his life. While in prison, he converted to Islam and joined the Muslim community. Then a Christian started to engage him. Over time, God called him to faith, regenerating his heart. Now he ministers in the Georgia prisons, having earned his Doctor of Ministry from Miami Theological Seminary. He’ll tell you, “I’m a big sinner.” He’s rough around the edges and doesn’t present like most East Cobbers. Would he feel welcomed in the church?
The Roman church was fighting because the Gentiles just didn’t fit in. How could God choose them? How could they be adopted? Sunday, we’ll consider God’s sovereign mercy as the starting point for community. Join us as we worship and submit ourselves to his word.
The prophet Isaiah opens his book with these words: “Hear, O heavens, and give ear, O earth; for the Lord has spoken: ‘Children have I reared and brought up, but they have rebelled against me. The ox knows its owner, and the donkey its master’s crib, but Israel does not know, my people do not understand.’ Ah, sinful nation, a people laden with iniquity, offspring of evildoers, children who deal corruptly! They have forsaken the Lord, they have despised the Holy One of Israel, they are utterly estranged” (Isaiah 1:2-4, italics added).
It’s an astonishing text because God calls out his own people for rebelling against him. It’s also astonishing because Israel had so many privileges and opportunities as God’s people, and yet they rebelled. Who failed? Did God fail? Did he fail to keep his promises to Israel?
Our text this week addresses these questions within the church: Did God fail? Is God just? Join us Sunday as we consider these questions and step into the glory of a merciful God.
Did you know that over forty attempts were made to assassinate Hitler? You might remember a movie called Valkyrie, starring Tom Cruise, that highlighted one such attempt. Some of the attempts on his life were known to Hitler; and when he survived, he concluded that God was protecting him and endorsed his policies. In such cases Hitler severely misinterpreted God’s mercy. God’s preservation of this murderous dictator came with no endorsement of his values. It did present another opportunity for Hitler to repent, but it was not endorsement.
In our lives we often misinterpret God’s kindness, basing his gifts on something in us instead of something in God. When our kids follow the Lord, we might conclude it’s because we’re good parents. When we are financially successful, it’s because of our skill or financial savvy. When others get sick and we don’t, it’s “clean living.” But mercy isn’t rooted in us or our performance, but in the character of God.
In our text this Sunday, Paul lists Israel’s privileges: the promises, covenants, patriarchs, etc. If a people, so privileged, failed to receive Jesus as Messiah, God must have failed, not Israel. But did he? Join us Sunday as we consider the mercy of God and worship our generous Savior.
Sunday we’re going to start a challenging portion of Scripture, Romans 9-11. In this text, the Apostle addresses the obvious question on the minds of Jewish believers, “If salvation is by grace through faith, is God breaking his promises to Israel as a nation?” In addition, Paul confronts the potential pride of the Gentile believers over their adoption into God’s family, saying, “do not be arrogant toward the branches. If you are, remember it is not you who support the root, but the root that supports you,” Romans 11:18. This will address the conflict between the two groups in the Roman Church.
Let me paint the picture in an example. I have six children; all are grown, but two have left the family. Four of my children are expecting an inheritance. Then suddenly I adopt five more grown children, outnumbering my remaining natural born children. These new family members are grown and don’t have to go through eighteen years under my parentage. They are still learning what it means to be in my family, but they don’t know our family customs, haven’t had to endure our family vacations, and don’t follow some of our unique family rules. The adopted family could feel very privileged and my natural children, jealous and demanding of the new members.
This is a brief idea of the dynamics, though not as complicated as the question at hand in Rome. Paul’s answer is mercy! Some in God’s family have separated themselves from him, not receiving his grace by faith. Some have misunderstood his promises to the family. Some have just come in. All who are present are present by mercy! Join us as we worship the One who has made us family by grace!
This summer my family went to the Grand Tetons in Wyoming. One night, just before sunset, we rode the gondola to the top of the mountain we were staying near. Now I’m not one for heights, but it was extraordinary when we arrived at the top. There on the pinnacle of the mountain, above the tree line, we looked over the valley and watched the sun set. That view will be with me forever.
This week we’ll finish this beautiful passage of gospel implications by standing on the top of the mountain and looking over the scenery. Paul comes to a dramatic conclusion—that nothing created can separate us from the love of God in Christ Jesus. That’s the vista he wants us to stand and take in. He wants us to linger here and contemplate what it means to be secure in God’s love, ministered to us by Jesus. He wants us to be persuaded with him. Join us Sunday as we consider this final contemplation and respond to God’s grace with worship.
Do you remember the story of Job? God allows Satan to torment him, taking away everything that he has and then taking away his health. In the midst of his suffering, his own spouse turns to him and says, “Do you still hold fast your integrity? Curse God, and die.” Hardships in life have this effect. They can cause us to believe that God has abandoned us or at least that he doesn’t care. They can cause us to question our faith, even question ourselves. This is the desired effect by Satan and those he uses to torment and threaten us. The closer our relationship to our persecutors the deeper the pain and insecurity.
In his next contemplation, almost to the vista of his climb, Paul asks, “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” Then he lists threats: tribulation, persecution, famine, etc. These threats aren’t people, but they are threats created by people who oppose us and by a spiritual enemy who seeks to disorient and discourage us. Believers throughout history have been harangued, subjugated, persecuted, and ostracized. It’s the teenager in high school who is picked on and excluded; it’s the coworkers who gossip and slander us to the manager; it’s the government that brands us a threat to democracy; or the culture that mocks us, defacing our sacred history.
Paul’s conviction is that none of these threats can separate us from Christ’s love and that Christ leads us in his victory procession. Join us Sunday as we consider this text and worship our Savior.
When I left the religious tradition that I was raised in, there were several people who said that I was disobeying God. Comments like that weighed heavily on my 30-year-old mind. At that age, with limited experience, could I be sure that I was doing the right thing? I resigned my position and began looking for a new role in the Presbyterian church. For several months I painted houses in my father’s rental property business. I interviewed with several churches, but no one hired me. I wondered, “Were my friends right? Was God punishing me?” Then in early August, just before school began, I was hired at Pinewoods Presbyterian in Pensacola. We moved into our home in the Pensacola area on September 9th, our wedding anniversary. Four days later, we fled back to Atlanta as hurricane Ivan ravaged our home. The hurricane damaged our roof, flooding most of the house, ruining ceilings, walls, floors, and furniture. My anxiety intensified! Was God punishing me for joining the Presbyterian church?
I share that story because it’s a question that I get asked often as a pastor, especially when God’s people encounter hardships in their lives. I’ve even had believers ask me if they are cursed. Our text this week addresses this question. The unqualified answer is “no.” As believers we might be accused by others and our own heart, but our Judge declares us righteous in Christ. Since we can’t be judged, we can’t be sentenced or condemned. A guilty verdict would mean sentencing, but a not-guilty verdict, or acquittal, means no punishment. Join us Sunday as we consider the Apostle’s reasoning.
In his book Les Misérables, Victor Hugo tells the story of Jean Valjean, a convicted criminal who escapes prison, changes his name, and tries to live a normal life. But his story is one of constant vigilance to avoid being known for who he is, the criminal Jean Valjean. He stored up his wealth in the local bank but told the banker to keep much of the money available for him should he need it quickly. He anticipated that at a moment’s notice he would have to flee for his life if his true identity was discovered.
Christians often live like Jean Valjean, careful to conceal their true nature. Our prime method of concealment? Public piety! If we can manage a good performance in life, we can avoid being accused of hypocrisy, and conceal the sinfulness of our true selves. You see the irony of this thinking? A good performance is the hypocrisy!
The gospel calls us to a different approach in life. It calls us to live in the grace that we have received and the no condemnation clause of Christ’s work for us. We don’t live to avoid accusation; we live in the dual reality of our sinfulness and God’s full-throated pardon. Only in God’s justification can we face our sin with humility, and the dependence on God that transforms us.
In his second contemplation, Paul asks, “Who shall bring any charge against God’s elect? It is God who justifies.” Join us Sunday as we consider who accuses us and how God liberates us with grace.