Romans 9:1-5
Paul has a
problem. It’s a problem that causes him such enormous struggle and grief that
he says that he would sacrifice his own salvation and place in God’s kingdom if
it could make a difference. I think it is a problem many of us can probably
identify with.
In the chapters of Paul’s letter to
the Romans that precede chapters 9 – 11 which we enter today, Paul has been
writing about the wonder of God’s love. He has been writing about the wonder of
how God has opened up the gates of heaven first to the Jews and now to the
Gentiles as well. He has expounded on the grace
of God that frees humanity through
the righteousness of Jesus Christ. He
affirms, over and over that God’s
faithfulness is revealed in God’s
covenants, and that nothing can eradicate the promises of God.
Paul goes to
great lengths (that’s another way to say that Paul can be wordy and his
arguments rather circular) to assure the reader and hearers of this letter that
salvation is God’s doing and is
neither earned nor deserved by Gentile nor Jew. All have fallen short of the glory of God, and been judged guilty
by God. All have been condemned to
death by the utter failure of humanity to ever
live in right relationship with God, to ever
live in covenantal fidelity. That is, Paul says, we would be condemned, we would
be overwhelmed by the power of death if it were not for God’s love, God’s faithfulness, and God’s determination for us.
The first
eight chapters of this letter to the Romans contain nothing less than Paul’s powerful
confession of the veracity of the gospel of Jesus Christ. He develops a strong
argument for the power of the faith in which God engages us; he makes
connections through scripture to God’s providence throughout all of history. Paul
has set the stage in these chapters, by telling his story, by testifying how God has intervened in his own life – with
a truth so powerful that he, Paul, a faithful Jew, was converted from his
persecution of Christians and became a dedicated proclaimer of the gospel of Jesus
Christ. Paul is convinced that all
God’s promises of life and redemption are found in Christ and belong to the
“providential hand of God.”
Just last
week we heard the apostle’s powerful words of conviction regarding God’s
absolute reign over the powers that might threaten us, a reign that is sealed
through faith in Christ that is itself
God’s doing. Paul writes, “For I am persuaded that neither death nor life, nor
angels nor principalities nor powers, nor things present nor things to come,
nor height nor depth, nor any other created thing, shall be able to separate us
from the love of God which is in Jesus Christ, our Lord.” (8:38-39) Paul is
convinced that God’s righteousness saves us, that God’s faithfulness redeems us
from the grave, and that it is through God’s
grace revealed in the life, death and resurrection of Jesus that salvation
is won, and that believing in Christ, nothing ever can or will change that, nor
take away from us the status of God’s beloved, redeemed, inheritors of the
kingdom of God.
So what is
Paul’s problem?
Paul enters
some of the deepest waters of the New Testament here, as he contemplates the
fate of the Jewish people. New Testament theologian Matt Skinner writes that at
the time Paul wrote this epistle it was becoming more and more apparent that
the Christian gospel would not receive a positive response from the majority of
Jews who heard it.
With great compassion, Paul opens
this ninth chapter of the letter with a heartfelt expression of anguish for his
people; for the Jews. “I am speaking the truth in Christ,” he writes, “I am not
lying; my conscience confirms it by the Holy Spirit. I have great sorrow and
unceasing anguish in my heart.” Paul’s struggle arises out of the love and
compassion that he bears for the Jewish people – the Israelites – the people of
the covenant. Are they “people of the covenant” no more he wonders? What
happens to them? If salvation is brought through faith in Christ but there is a
fundamental rejection of the gospel, what then? These are not questions and
problems only for Paul. World events both past and present detail the
stereotypes we assign to the Jews which bear evidence that this problem and the
questions it inspires persist.
Paul’s
questions present a minefield. What does it mean to be “the chosen people” who
reject God? What does it mean to fail to accept Christ as God’s new covenant? What
does it mean for those who fail to receive Jesus as the Anointed One, the
Savior, the Messiah? For, if the people of the first covenant, the one God made
in antiquity with the Israelites – Paul intentionally uses that historic name
as a reference - are not now saved,
does that mean that God isn’t really
faithful all the time? If God is not faithful to the promises made to the
people of Israel, what does that mean for Jews, for Gentiles, for God?
Paul’s
suffering is personal because these are his
people he is thinking about. These are the people with whom and for whom he
locates his own history and faith formation. Paul is thinking about his family,
his friends, the people from synagogue that he’s known his whole life. In
broader terms, Paul is thinking about all those Jews to whom he is connected
through his birth and their shared history– these are the people he knows and identifies
with. These are the people he loves. This is more than a struggle for Paul. This is a crisis
for him.
Skinner
writes, “Paul did not write Romans 9-11 as a “Christian” passing judgment on
“Judaism,” as much as he wrote as a Jew trying, like the prophets of old, to
make theological sense of the dynamics of disobedience and restoration among
Abraham’s descendants. The question driving this section of Romans is “What’s
God doing?” It’s not “What’s wrong with these unbelievers?” The situation
threatened to ignite a theological crisis in Paul’s day, if it could be
supposed that the gospel meant the expiration of God’s promises to those God
had already chosen.” Could God have given up on the Jewish people?
It might be
tempting to think that these issues don’t pertain to us. After all, we are
Christians, far removed from Paul’s experience of conversion and the crisis in
which he finds himself. We are believers in Jesus and in the gospel of grace
and redemption. But these are
important questions, and important passages to think about, because they
wrestle with serious questions about God’s character and about the limit of
God’s love and the steadfastness of God’s word. And there is that burning
question – “What’s God doing?”
Friends, I
submit to you that God’s history with Israel is our history too. What we
encounter here is not an “us and them” question, but a “we” equation. The
Jewish people’s rich theological heritage is part of our heritage. This is why it is important to consistently remind
ourselves of the entire biblical
witness – why we include Old Testament readings and psalms along with New
Testament readings in worship each week. It is why our worship and liturgy is
sprinkled throughout with references and biblical passages from the entire
corpus of the scriptures both old and
new. All of our worship and imagery, in fact, is rooted in the Old Testament –
within the story of God’s relationship with the people of Israel as it was unfolding.
Further, to understand where Paul
is coming from, consider this: how many of you know of someone who has
struggled, or have struggled yourself because a loved one, a family member, an
adult child perhaps, or even a friend has “fallen away” from the faith? How
many of you may wonder about a friend who has never known Christ or rejects the gospel we proclaim? Where is
their salvation? What will happen to them? If any of these questions resonate
with you, then you might have a wee bit of understanding what it might have
been like for Paul.
I can tell
you that in my ministry I have been met by parents, husbands, wives and
siblings who have suffered anguish like Paul’s when their loved one has died
outside the bounds of the church and therefore, seemingly outside the bounds of
God’s love and saving grace. I can tell you that I have often heard the despair
of parents of adult children who have turned their backs on the church, or
their faith. I have fielded questions about what happens to people who die
without ever having known or accepted Christ. What, they want to know, what, we want to know, is God’s promise to them?
I cannot say
with certainty that I can answer all of those questions – I do not know the
mind of God. But I believe that God,
who relentlessly pursues humanity, who expands the redeemed to include all of
the creation, who saves even a lowly, insignificant creature like me – and you
– and then feeds us endlessly from
his own body and blood, this God is
able to work for the good of all whom God loves. The same God who created the
ordered cosmos out of chaos and man and woman out of dust and bone, can and
will work in ways we cannot fathom or explain to bear good fruit for the new
creation of the kingdom of God.
Paul S.
Berge, Emeritus Professor of New Testament at Luther Seminary writes, “The
Jewish people are not only the recipients of all that God has to give, but they
are the people from whom the seed of promise has come as they bear the very
gift of God to the nations: "And from them, according to the flesh, comes
the Messiah, who is over all, God blessed forever. Amen" (9:5b). Paul has
saved the greatest of God's promises to last. The identity of the Messiah is
the greatest of God's gifts to Paul's kindred according to the flesh. This
brings Paul to the only words that can express the focus of all that he has said
in these introductory words--a doxology of praise to God--"God blessed
forever. Amen!"
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