Romans 8: 12-25, page 158.
So then, brothers and sisters, we are debtors, not to the flesh, to live according to the flesh – for if you live according to the flesh, you will die; but if by the Spirit you put to death the deeds of the body, you will live. For all who are led by the Spirit of God are children of God. For you did not receive a spirit of slavery to fall back into fear, but you have received a spirit of adoption. When we cry, “Abba! Father! It is that very spirit bearing witness with our spirit that we are children of God, and if children, then heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ – if, in fact, we suffer with him so that we may also be glorified with him.
I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us. The creation waits in eager expectation for the sons and daughters of God to be revealed. For the creation was subjected to frustration, not by its own choice, but by the will of the one who subjected it, in hope that the creation itself will be liberated from the bondage of decay and brought into the glorious freedom of the children of God.
We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time. Not only so, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly as we wait eagerly for our adoption as sons and daughters, the redemption of our bodies. For in this hope we are saved. But hope that is seen is no hope at all. Who hopes for what one already has? But if we hope for what we do not yet have, we wait for it patiently.
Sermon
Almost three weeks ago my wife Sara and I left our two year old daughter Lily at home with her grandmother to go to the hospital – feeling like our lives were about to change forever. There is a difference between two kids and one kid, or so we’d heard, and perfectly happy with our lives as three, Sara and I would often talk about the change to four – how with two kids and two parents you can plan on man on man coverage, but when one of us is gone there are two kids to keep safe and only one parent to do it. How on earth would one of us ever make it to and from the grocery store, how would one of us feed them both lunch, how would one of us console them both if they both needed arms to hold them?
But then there wasn’t much of a point to this speculation – it was too late for that – you get to a certain point and there is no going back – the baby is coming.
The baby is coming – that’s true no matter who you are or what age you live in – at a certain point the mother realizes that there is only one way this baby is coming out.
That was certainly true in Paul’s day, though childbirth was something different from what those of us with access to modern medical care experience in the sense that the process back then was more painful, less public, and carried with it a much greater risk.
Sara and our new daughter Cecelia benefited from the care of a doctor who has delivered half of the city of Columbia and a nationally ranked hospital where mothers have access to sanitary conditions, epidurals, even television and popsicles. We benefited from a system of health care unavailable to everyone, but certainly unimaginable compared to conditions in the Roman Empire.
In the ancient world, where we can assume that in Rome, as in all ancient cultures and still many cultures today, the rate of infant mortality was high, as was the chance of a mother dying in labor.
But some things never change and Paul’s words still ring true, I assume they resonate with every mother of every time and place: “We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time.”
We can assume that the women in his congregation would have known exactly what he was talking about, that childbirth is a time of groaning – but something new is coming and for the mother, there’s no going back to how it was before.
However, for the father, that may not be true, especially considering the accepted practice in Ancient Roman society of exposure, as the choice to raise a child lay not in the hands of the mother, but in the hands of the father who would examine the newborn and choose whether to raise it or leave it to die, often on the street. The Romans thought it was strange that some nations subsumed by their empire would raise all healthy children, that Egyptians, Germans, and Jews exposed none of their children but raised them all.
As they struggled for hours, risking their own lives and the life of that child who would be born, they had with them also a great worry – that all this work, all this pain, could be for nothing should the father choose not to raise this child.
As Paul elevates this image of the mother, using it as a divine image to explain the pain felt by all people, all of creation, we can assume that he not only sought to give an adequate metaphor for the new Kingdom that is coming, but sought to challenge the patriarchal assumptions of Ancient Rome – that the choice or decision made by a father was not akin to the divine working of God in creation, but the delivery of a new child by a mother, this glorious and unavoidable act was.
He lifts up an act – a new creation that is coming regardless of your waning state of mind, your back sliding, your fear, to make a point about our world – the Kingdom is coming – and there’s just as much a chance of stopping it as stopping a child from being born in the heat of labor.
I remember too well the night our oldest daughter Lily was born. After hours and hours of labor my wife Sara faced an emergency c-section. It was a big change from our expected birth plan, but more than that, it was an emergency c-section, and as they wheeled her out of the delivery room to take her to surgery I was left wondering whether the birth of my daughter might mean the death of my wife. My wife summoned tremendous strength and courage that night to face that pain and uncertainty, but there was no going back.
I, like many, will never have the privilege of giving birth, but as we all live in the midst of a changing world that we don’t always like and rarely understand we are invited to see the truth – that the Kingdom is coming and there’s no one can stop it.
While we don’t always like to look ourselves in the mirror.
While we don’t always like to remember our regrets - who we’ve known, who we’ve been hurt by and who we’ve hurt.
While we would save ourselves from dwelling too long on our greatest mistakes, fearing that they will define us over and above our greatest success.
While often, when we consider all of who we are, it’s hard to believe that we are truly worthy of love and acceptance, especially the love and acceptance of God.
While it seems as though sin and bad decisions will define us, Paul does not understand our relationship with God to be one where we are worthy of God’s love, but one where we are adopted by God’s grace whether we choose to follow or not.
And Paul does not understand creation as though all of creation’s redemption were a matter of choice, as Paul does not portray creation as a Roman father who makes a decision to choose or not choose a newborn child, but as an expectant mother, giving birth to the new creation whether she chooses to or not.
We are used to choice and we are used to our choices defining who we are. But the choice between obedience and disobedience does not paint the picture of creation in Romans. Paul does not liken the pain creation suffers to a Roman father who faces a choice, but a “creation” who like a pregnant mother, “waits in eager expectation” for the joy that is to come.
From this perspective Paul writes, “I consider that our present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in us,” that the Kingdom is coming – whether we choose it or not.
It is God who governs our existence, and it is hope and not disappointment that defines who we are as the people of God.
“We know that the whole creation has been groaning as in the pains of childbirth right up to the present time,” and as we feel the pain of this childbirth what do we expect?
Out of sadness, regret, depression, disappointment you may expect the worse and come to believe that our whole society is going down and, likewise, when you look down deep at who you are and who you’ve been you may reach the conclusion that you are sure to go down with it. But who are you but a child of the God who calls you son, who calls you daughter, and if you are God’s children, then you are also heirs, heirs of God and joint heirs with Christ – and if, in fact, you suffer with him, you suffer so that you may also be glorified with him – so you do not suffer pessimistically, but while trusting that all pain and discomfort are like birth pains – you suffer knowing that all groans lead the way to new life.
You see, you are the children of God, and so you encounter mistakes, not as lost opportunities, not as wrong turns that have lead off course, but as a part of an unavoidable process God is working in you and in the world.
You are the children of God, and so you must see yourself, not in disappointed judgment, but as a hopeful air of the God who has already chosen you as God’s own.
You are the children of God, who like an expectant mother know that your present sufferings are not worth comparing with the glory that will be revealed in you, because you have a reason to hope.
Amen.
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