More Than Conquerors

Some people make big gifts to others because they know a big gift will be coming their way soon: give to get.  Just be sure—right?—that you’re getting at least as much as you give.  Ideally, get more than you give, right?  Much of the time, what keeps people from giving is the conviction that they don’t have it to give—more isn’t on the way.  I won’t have enough for me if I give to you.  That’s a scarcity mindset.  We’re familiar with it.  We live much of our lives by that creed; we believe we must; we don’t see a real alternative.  Money doesn’t grow on trees!  It’s not raining pennies—though, Lord knows, we could use pennies.

God makes it possible for each of us to give big, because He has given, because of whom He has given, and what we are given in him.  Centuries before the days of Jesus, Isaiah sang, “Since ancient times no one has heard, no ear has perceived, no eye has seen any God besides you, who acts on behalf of those who wait for him” (Is 64:4).  Knowing all of us all the way through, head to toe, down to our deepest depths, heart and soul, He knows.  And He is drawing us in the Spirit’s tether to Him, to eternal blessedness, because it pleases Him so to do.  Because He would rather have us than throw us away.  You would not be here today if God did not want you.  To be wanted by God . . . sit with that for a moment; let the light of that revelation sink in.

God acts for those who wait for Him.  If we wait, it is because we know He will come through.  We don’t wait around for someone who will disappoint us.  We don’t wait for someone we know won’t be coming.  God is true to His Word.  It’s a promise He makes Himself.

“What, then, shall we say in response to these things?” (8:31).  What things does Paul have in mind?  You have come through Romans with me to here, listened and thought about what I’ve been saying these past months.  When Paul refers to “these things,” my sense is that he’s including everything he has been writing about up to here: our serious need and God’s joyful grace, faith, relationship with God, and what Christ does for us, who he is for us.  In response to all this—all this ongoing, committed grace, this glorious kindness of God—how shall we respond?  Will we shrug our shoulders?  Some do.  Shall we look around and yawn, without even covering our gaping maws?  Some do.  Shall we collapse in tears?  That could be a good response!  Shall we lift our eyes, hands, and hearts to heaven, and say, “Thank you”?  Shall we look at all that still hinders us and allow the weight of it to drag us down?

God wants to lift us, beloved!  Will we be lifted?  We say, sure, of course!  Will we let ourselves be lifted God’s way or on our own terms?  Ezekiel long before warned God’s people about thinking they could choose the terms, warned them about telling themselves of course their terms were also God’s terms.  And what are our terms for allowing God to lift us: health, wealth, and worldly success?  Nearly everything always nice?  I live how I want, and You keep me safe?  “What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, yet forfeit their soul?” (Mk 8:36).  God isn’t Santa Claus.  I fear brothers and sisters out there are still looking for a heavenly Santa Claus.  They miss Christmas.

But God is indeed for us, our friend, our ally, if we’ll invite and allow Him, if we’ll let God be God.  “If God is for us, who can be against us?” (8:31).  Paul has labored mightily to make clear that, despite the odds against us, the sin still weighing us down, God is indeed for us because God is always for Himself, and He has made Himself a promise to be glorified in us, among us, and through us: personal holiness, community faithfulness, missional testimony.  The church in the power of the Spirit.  The sense of the Spirit, beloved—there’s nothing quite like it.

Then, we experience a setback, a disappointment.  We begin to spiral, to feel our brokenness, and despondent.  There are times when it feels as if hope is running on fumes.  What’s going well?  Name one thing!  God is well, always: so, it is always well with my soul.  Glad or sad, it is well with my soul.  Elated or deflated, it is well with my soul.  Though this life be one, long, constant struggle to scrape by, God is for me.  It is well with my soul.  But why must it be so hard?  Why can’t it ever be easy, happy, smooth?  Job also longed for the good times, the glory days.  But better was coming, and Job couldn’t quite realize or see it, because all he saw—all he permitted himself to see, all he, in his deep sorrow, knew how to see—was the great injustice of existence, the demoralizing injustice of God.  O, the trouble of being born!

Because he knows God’s Word, Paul assures us: God is for us.  Paul is sure; wonderful for him.  What makes him so sure?  How can we be sure?  Some of you are regulars at the Good Friday service, so I hope what I’m about to say might be especially vivid for you.  For others, maybe it would help to watch again Mel Gibson’s Passion of the Christ: “He who did not spare his own Son, but gave him up for us all—how will he not also, along with him, graciously give us all things?” (8:32).  God’s glory—we in Christ are a real part of that glory—God’s glory was worth just that much to God.  God gives us His Son, graciously: from grace, full of grace.  Grace, grace, God’s grace, grace that is greater than all our sin.  Will he give us His Son, give Christ for us, and not then also give all that comes with receiving His Son?  I’ll give you everything, but you’ll need more?  I’ll give you everything, then close the door in your face?  I suppose that’s a fear some do feel.

Jesus is grace, and grace conducts us to yet more grace: all things given, graciously.  The Son gives all glory to the Father who gives all glory to the Son: glory, grace, love—God invites us in.  He is our one true need, and our fulfillment.  Christ gave all to receive all, and he has.  He tells his wondering disciples: “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me” (Mt 28:18).  In all things, God works for the good of those who look to Him for salvation and sanctification —redemption.  We may feel as if we have nothing, maybe even sometimes feel as if we are nothing, yet you and I have God’s love: that is something and makes us something.  Awash with grace, we are saved; not everyone can say that; many see no point.

“Who will bring any charge against those whom God has chosen?” (8:33).  Well, many charges could be brought against us, and the Enemy, the Tempter, who delights in ensnaring us, is delighted all the more to stand before the bench, point his finger, and make his accusations.  In Christ, God has already pronounced the verdict.  It isn’t not guilty.  It is forgiven: guilty, and forgiven.  Something like, but much more desirable than, those presidential pardons that drive so many in the media nuts when it’s the wrong president and the wrong pardon, that very pardon many who are locked away even now hope for.

This is part of the reason why, as I believe, Paul spends as much time as he does in Romans and many of his other letters countering the argument that was being made by some in the churches, that forgiveness was license to continue doing whatever sin had taken deepest root in us—it was all already forgiven, after all!  And Paul says that, when we truly, deeply realize the forgiveness we already have, the very idea of continuing to do what displeases God becomes positively repugnant.  We cannot.  Oh, we do, and we cannot.  So, grace glows brilliant for us, yet again, always.  That tension always there.  And all things given, graciously.

Consider what we have, in Christ, in this very moment.  “It is God who justifies.  Who then is the one who condemns?  No one” (8:33-34).  God justifies because He chooses to do so: His sovereign, uninfluenced decision.  Justify does not mean to declare the innocent not guilty—just what they deserved, anyway: “the full facts demonstrate that I acted lawfully and appropriately at all times.”  Right.  To justify is to declare that, though guilty, this person shall be regarded as if innocent.  Not the presumption of innocence—an innocence that does not exist—but the blessing of the state of innocence, graciously given.  “[T]here is now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus” (8:1).

But God, You made a mistake, that time!  There are those who delight in telling others—often those they suspect to be serious, devout Christians—that a lot of people are going to be surprised at the resurrection, to see who all is in, after all: as if “How did you get in?”  Jesus tells a story about that, too, as I recall.  We can’t work more,  harder, or smarter to get in.  Our Herculean labors are not the way in, nor will merely being okay with the sound of the name Jesus and knowing there is a book called the Bible.  Let us be people who live to experience the present and future reality of salvation.  Discipleship doesn’t look like nothing.

There is an anxiety Paul is addressing here—John also spoke to it—it is an anxiety that still lingers around the church: can I lose my salvation?  Remember what Jesus says: “whoever hears my word and believes him who sent me has eternal life and will not be judged but has crossed over from death to life” (Jn 5:24).  Only have faith.  Faith justifies.  Faith saves.  Faith transforms us.  Jesus already knows how many times we will screw up even after receiving him as our only hope for life.  Our righteousness is Christ’s righteousness, and, in Christ, God vows to transform us.  We’re not going to get it perfect in this life, but we do know the way, and the truth, and the life God gives, into which He calls us.

Hot messes though we may be and remain even for many years—you and I, because we have faith, we are safe.  We are saved.  We have faith—we have been given faith, given safety.  All given, graciously.  Redeemed, how I love to proclaim it.  But wait, there’s more: “Christ Jesus who died—more than that, who was raised to life—is at the right hand of God and is also interceding for us” (8:34).  Most will accept that Jesus died.  I mean, every person dies.  Moses died.  Buddha died.  Mohammed died.  We crazy Christians, with Paul, affirm that Jesus, after dying, was raised to life.  Death wasn’t the end of the story, for Jesus.  Nor shall it be for those in Christ by grace through faith.  No Christian leaves the cemetery thinking, well, I guess that’s it.

Christ’s death was universally consequential; his rising is eternally potent.  Living, He loved me; dying, He saved me; buried, He carried my sins far away; rising, He justified freely, forever.  Paul’s word choice here is full.  It’s not just that Jesus woke up, sat up, stood up.  It’s something like the feeling of sunrise—the darkness is done, the light has come; a new day; he arose.  Christ Jesus “was raised to life.”  This phrase, “was raised,” reminds us of both the resurrection and Christ’s Ascension: Christ’s elevation to his accustomed place “at the right hand of God.”  The power of God is present and potent to save.

All this is marvelous to contemplate, but Paul reminds us that Jesus isn’t just lying around now, waiting for the reminder on his phone.  Jesus is even in this moment “interceding for us”: Christ is the channel of abundant grace.  God has left nothing out, overlooked nothing.  He’s got this.  He is bringing us through.  Paul had told us before this that the Spirit intercedes for us (8:26-27).  We have a divine advocate, both in heaven and alongside us now.

God made His sovereign, uninfluenced decision—sinners though they be, I will claim these for Myself.  God knows the reasons we aren’t good choices for Him, knows more reasons than we know.  He chooses each of us, anyway—and how many others He may yet choose!  People can go through a lot of life deaf to God’s call; then, one day, God opens the ears of their hearts, and there is change; the Spirit takes root.  Beloved, we can make that part of our daily praying—Lord, open ears; Lord, open hearts!  It is a privilege and delight to pray that prayer.

In Christ, by the Spirit, God is for us.  That doesn’t make the rest of the journey carefree, but it is a reminder, if we’ll receive it, that we already have all we need, and that we will have all that we truly need.  But I need more!  I barely have enough!  Fear, beloved, sinking its ice-cold fingers into our shocked, shaken hearts.  People near the point of being overcome by fear lose one thing: the ability to listen.  God calls.  God knows we need many things: “your heavenly Father knows that you need them.  But seek first his kingdom and his righteousness, and all these things will be given to you as well” (Mt 6:32-33).  To seek His righteousness is not first of all to be on your best behavior always; to seek the righteousness of God is to strive and yearn and delight to be in a vital relationship with God, the relationship He gives us in giving us Jesus, in giving us His Spirit, graciously giving us all things.

God be praised, there will be many fair days, yet the remainder of our journey will not all be smooth sailing, we know.  There will be storms, heavy, crashing waves, and we may even feel on one or two occasions shipwrecked: rolled ashore along with the snapped lines and broken decking.  And God is there, with us, still.  “Who shall separate us from the love of Christ?” (8:35).  Answer: no one.  It’s never the case that God stops loving us, or that God only begrudgingly loves us.  It’s never the case that God only half-heartedly works for our good, as though He wasn’t really inclined to help.  And He works His way, in His time, on His terms.  We can argue, try to, anyway: Job did; many psalms cry out, how long Lord?!  Why Lord?!

Jesus never seemed so weak than when his arms were spread wide on the cross, but I’ll tell you, he was never so strong as there.  What can pry us out of God’s embrace?  What is stronger than God?  Sin?  Jesus is God’s reminder that sin is not stronger than God.  Sin is stronger than you and me, no question!  We’ve bent the knee, many a time.  Sin is not stronger than God.  “Shall trouble or hardship or persecution or famine or nakedness or danger or sword?” (8:35).  Paul knew these.  He’d experienced all of this because of his faithful testimony.  Let us never be surprised by the sorrows and hurts we encounter in this world, especially those we suffer from holding to our faith.  We know the weight and the sorrow; Christ will bear them, if we ask him.  Jesus will lead us through it all.  Our faithful witness makes us magnets for life’s messes—forewarned is forearmed.

What Christ has purchased for us—well, is it worth what it will cost us?  When trouble comes, and hardship—as it will—will you still let Jesus hold you?  We find it difficult to comprehend what faith in Jesus cost the faithful in the early centuries: nobody willing to let you work, banished from the market, a target for persecution and the sword.  Even today, there are places where the cost of persevering faith in Christ is devastatingly high: North Korea and China, as we might expect, but also India, in Nigeria, Rwanda, and Mozambique.  Might we make a point in our daily prayers to remember our fellow Christians, around the world and especially in those places?  The world came for Jesus; why should it be any different for a Christ follower?

“No, in all these things we are more than conquerors through him who loved us” (8:37).  O love that will not let us go.  “More than conquerors.”  The world has known many conquerors.  In Rome, the emperor was hailed as Savior, as a god, high and mighty to save.  The empire was established, and maintained, by conquest.  Got to spill a little blood to have a little peace.  Yes, we’re familiar with this.  But God comes to us, and the costliest blood is spilled, to win for us peace with God.  No warlord ever won such a conquest.  “For I am convinced that neither death nor life, neither angels nor demons, neither the present nor the future, nor any powers, neither height nor depth, nor anything else in all creation, will be able to separate us from the love of God that is in Christ Jesus our Lord” (8:38-39).  God makes us victorious, because, in Christ, we belong to God, and God is the Victor.  Christ is God’s complete testimony that He shall have us with Him, always, that there is no power that can prevent God, no power that would hinder Him.  We in Christ are more than conquerors, for we have been given the prize of God’s love, by grace, through faith.  Amen!