Saturday, May 19, 2018

Romans 8:22-27


Romans 8:22-27

22 We know that the whole creation has been groaning in labor pains until now; 23 and not only the creation, but we ourselves, who have the first fruits of the Spirit, groan inwardly while we wait for adoption, the redemption of our bodies. 24 For in hope we were saved. Now hope that is seen is not hope. For who hopes for what is seen? 25 But if we hope for what we do not see, we wait for it with patience.

26 Likewise the Spirit helps us in our weakness; for we do not know how to pray as we ought, but that very Spirit intercedes with sighs too deep for words. 27 And God, who searches the heart, knows what is the mind of the Spirit, because the Spirit intercedes for the saints according to the will of God.

In Romans 8:22-25, a section that began in verse 12, Paul focuses upon the Spirit making people children of God. This formation occurs through the pain, struggle, and suffering of a human life. This portion of Chapter 8 reminds me of a basic human reality. The life-journey of every human being involves pain. We may wonder why. We may rebel against it. However, the harsh reality is that living things struggle and suffer to maintain life. Often, such pain deepens the experience and appreciation of life. In fact, if we knew the secret history of our enemies, we might see in them a sorrow, pain, or hurt that would disarm us of our hostility toward them.[1] Life has hurt everyone. No one receives an exemption from the pain that comes in living a human life. Paul is not going to offer what philosophy and theology would later call theodicy. He will not explain suffering. Suffering and pain in life is part of the training we experience that will reveal who we are. If the person remains oriented toward God while life pierces the person with the nail of affliction, the nail pierces a hole through creation, through the thickness of the veil that separates the person and God.[2] Could pain deepen our character, help us appreciate life, and even enable us to go deeper with God? We learn in this passage that Paul answers Yes. Paul encourages those whom the Spirit has freed to participate in the life of the Spirit.

We have seen in this passage that Paul moves from the concept of slavery to adoption and from passive, futile struggle to active participation. Those who are in the Spirit experience, in their own being, the labor pains of the birth of the new age within. Something new is being born in the world. The new age of God is not just a redesign of the old age, but is the birth of something fresh and unexpected. God's new creation will come out of the old creation, and will quickly grow up to replace it. At the center of this transformation is the Holy Spirit, a current of divine power that comes directly from God. Nature is in sorrow, as the strong devour the weak, and the crying of the wind, etc.  The whole creation is crying for release. Paul's use of the metaphor of a mother delivering a child is rich and passionate. People who have disappointment by Paul's teaching about the role of women in the church in other letters I hope will allow the fullness of this image to touch them. Paul's ability to conceive of the transformation of all creation in terms of giving birth is so gracefully inclusive and utterly marvelous! All creation is in the process of hard labor; the contractions come faster and harder. Yet, the experience of the passage of time seems cruelly slow.  However, Paul does not divorce the personal from the cosmic. He invites believers to see the big picture. When Paul writes of the suffering or travail of creation, he finds some support in a modern theory of the development of early earth. The early Earth may have been "an interrupted Eden" -- a planet where life repeatedly evolved and diversified, only to be sent back to square one by asteroids 10 or 20 times wider than the one that hastened the dinosaurs' demise. For Norman Sleep, the travail of creation is very real. The Stanford University scientist says that the Earth may have been repeatedly pummeled by asteroids between 3.5 and 4.5 billion years ago, snuffing out all early life. He argues that there may have been long periods during which life repeatedly spread across the globe, only to have the impact of large asteroids nearly annihilate it.  For Paul, then, the two entities of personal and cosmic suffering converge on a path of redemption. What is happening within is also happening without; the entire creation is experiencing labor pains, too. There is complete synchronicity between the microcosm of the inner life and the macrocosm of the universe. Through the immanent work of the Spirit in us and in creation, God is liberating and redeeming creation. The goal of creation is to share in the life of God. The sighing of creation is an expression of the presence of the life-giving Spirit of God in all creatures. In verse 15, we have received the Spirit of adoption, but God has not yet adopted us. We groan because of the frustration that the life in the Spirit cannot find complete embodiment in the life of the believer. Our groaning suggests the human weakness that causes so many human endeavors to end in futility. The immanent work of the Spirit both gives life to all and suffers with all creation. Paul is not explaining why suffering exists. He is offering the insight that the Spirit suffers with all creation, and therefore with you and I in the midst of our suffering. In this work of the Spirit, all creation participates in the destiny of the children of God, which we see by way of anticipation in the resurrection of Jesus. Creation will share in the eternal fellowship of the Trinity. Each part of creation has divinely given independence. God has granted to human beings the unique responsibility of respecting this independence of all creatures.[3] We properly conclude our discussion with some reflections on hope. In the present time of suffering and pain, the believer lives by hope. Such hope waits silently for the Lord. It restrains faith from expecting too much. It refreshes faith when it becomes tired. For believers, such hope has its basis in the One for whom the Christian hopes. Christ defines that future.[4] Such hope reaches beyond the present to something not yet visible. The believer and all created order must remain focused on that which is unseen but certainly and painfully felt. One must envision the result and know that it is surely coming. This is Paul's definition of hope. One believes the certainty of the Unseen One's promised result in the midst of the muddle of the present chaos. One cannot see the crowning, yet. However, one feels the contraction and knows that new life is on the way! Christians who are justified by faith and baptized into Christ live in hope of the eternal salvation already achieved for them by Christ Jesus.  This hope gives vitality to endure the sufferings that lead to glory.  Christian groaning and waiting has its root in hope.  Christians may still be in the first aeon as shown by the sufferings they must undergo, but they also experience in faith the longing that is to be.  This longing manifests itself in Christian hope. We have dissatisfaction with the frail and perishable quality of this life. Christians believe they are on the way to a future fulfillment that transcends the weakness and suffering of the present. We vacillate between hope and despair for that reason. The basis of such hope could be the natural processes of life and its anticipation. For Jews and Christians, its basis is in the promise of God.[5] Hope understood in this way involves waiting. Our existence in relation to God is one of waiting. We can wait anxiously. Paul encourages us to wait patiently. Waiting means we have and do not have. We do not have that for which we wait. We do not now have, see, know, or grasp. Any religion or individual who has forgotten what it means to wait replaces God by what human beings have created. They have created an image of God. Too much of religious life involves that type of creation. Theologians and preachers are particularly in danger of thinking they possess God in a doctrine or system. They cease waiting for God. If we enclose God in a book, institution, or experience, then we stop waiting for God. Thus, our present is one of enduring not having God. Rather, we wait for God. Such an existence is not easy. Preaching every Sunday can lead one to think one possesses God. The task is not easy as we both proclaim the good news of God while admitting that we also wait for God. Frankly, much of the resistance to Christian preaching and teaching may have in the background resistance to the idea that anyone can possess God. The prophets and apostles maintained this sense of waiting. They did not wait for the judgment and the fulfillment of all things. They waited for the God who was to bring that end. God is not a thing we can grasp amidst other things we can grasp. Frankly, we have to wait for the person to reveal to us who they are. Yet, regardless of the intimacy of our communion with another human being, we have an element of not having and not knowing, and therefore, we wait. By analogy, then, we wait for the infinitely hidden, free, and incalculable God. Yet, we must wait in the most absolute and radical way, for we never possess God.[6]

Hence, the time now is one of waiting patiently, but not passively. While hope silently waits for the Lord, it restrains faith from hastening on with too much precipitation, confirms it when it might waver concerning the promises of God or begin to doubt of their truth. Hope refreshes faith when it might become fatigued, extends its view to the final goal, so as not to allow it give up in the middle of the course, or at the very outset. In short, by constantly renovating and reviving, it is furnishing more vigor for perseverance. Humanity can venture to realize this hope in its own free act, looking and moving forward as free people. Of course, human hope usually orients itself toward something other than God. Christian hope has its power in the One hoped for who is its basis, who is present in it even though it still looks and moves to Christ. The basis is God in Jesus Christ who is the future of humanity, creating its own expectation. As Christ is that future, one experiences saving now in hope.[7] Christian hope reaches beyond what is present to something not yet visible. This is true of all hope, and hence hope is essentially part of our being human. Self-transcendence characterizes human life, especially marked by the fact that dissatisfaction with all that we are now and have fills us at least in the sense of realizing that all things earthly are frail and perishable. We are on the way to a future fulfillment that transcends all that now is. Hence, new hopes always fill us, or rather; we vacillate between hope and despair. For on what can we base our inclination to hope? Where does it find any solid ground? Ernst Bloch thought of hope as having an ontological basis in the natural processes of life and its anticipation. Jewish and Christian hope has its basis in the promise of God.[8]

We have here the decisive eschatological reference for the understanding of nature. We need to reject any talk of the sacramental reality of creaturely things as too general and imprecise. Nevertheless, we may make a positive view of the thought of Teilhard de Chardin that in the sacraments of the new covenant, and above all, in the Eucharistic bread and wine, Christian worship takes up all creation into the sacramental action of thanksgiving to God. We learn that the goal of all creation is to share in the life of God. Why else should it sigh under the burden of corruptibility? We may view this sighing as an expression of the presence of the life-giving Sprit of God in creatures. The creative divine Spirit is vitally at work throughout creation, but also suffers with creatures because of their corruptibility prior to taking creative shape in humanity, in one man. Only in this way can the rest of creation participate in the liberty of the children of God, in the eschatological future of the children of God, which has already come in the resurrection of Jesus. The destiny of creation is to be in fellowship with God, in the sense of sharing in the fellowship of the Son with the Father and through the Spirit. It has not yet found direct fulfillment in the existence of each individual creature. It could not do so because only at the human stage in the sequence of creaturely forms did express distinction come to between God and all creaturely reality. Without their distinction, there can be no creaturely participation in the self-distinction of the Son from the Father. Hence, in Romans all creation is waiting for the manifestation of being a child of God in us, by which the creatures themselves will also be children. Nevertheless, even with the rise of humanity in the sequence of creatures, creation has not attained participation in the fellowship of the Son with the Father. The tension between the emergence of humanity as the last link in the chain of creaturely forms and the fulfillment of humanity’s destiny connects with the fact God intends humans as creatures to be independent beings. This is generally true of all creatures. Human beings are the climax of their creaturely sequence. The creature needed a prehistory of growing independence in a sequence of creaturely forms. Humans came into existence at the end of this sequence. They had to develop their own independence. As creatures ripened for independence, we are to relate to God as children who receive all things from their Father. We can see here that creation and eschatology belong together because in this way we can see the destiny of the creature will come to fulfillment. For the creature, the future is open and uncertain. Creatures awakened to independence open themselves to the future as the dimension from which alone their existence can achieve content and fulfillment. The experience of the creature is that the origin and the consummation do not coincide. They form a unity only from the standpoint of the divine act of creation. Yes, human beings are to have dominion, but acceptance of our own finitude must also mean giving to all other creatures the respect that is their due within the limits of their finitude.[9]

One needs to read Romans 8:26-27 in a way that closely identifies it with what Paul has just said in the first part of this chapter. We see this with the word “likewise” at the beginning. Paul has focused upon the presence of the Spirit through human weakness as well as the groaning and suffering of creation. He ended by stressing the hope the Spirit gives us. The Spirit groans for us, yes, and the Spirit gives us hope by helping us in our weakness. Thus, as he continues that theme, Paul expresses a profound “religious” or “spiritual” experience. He stresses that although we experience all the weakness of the flesh, the Spirit helps us. Even in our weakness, we pray. Regardless of the difficulty in which we find ourselves as human beings and as followers of Jesus, prayer remains a possibility and reality. The Spirit helps us in our prayers even when we are so weak we do not know what to say. We can be grateful for this, for in our weakness, we might ask God for anything out of our egoism, anxiety, desire, passion, shortsightedness, unreasonableness, and stupidity.[10] The Spirit is emotionally involved and eternally invested in our yearning for the divine. In this sense, every successful prayer has an ecstatic element in that the Spirit prays through us, even it should be unspeakable sighs.[11] Since the Spirit is the Spirit of God, the Father knows what the Spirit is saying on our behalf. The Spirit interprets our stuttering, stammering, groaning, and yearning in a way that becomes praise and love. The Spirit makes the pain of this life easier to bear by placing it in the context of hope. God is not distant from us. God is immanent, with us, and for us, through the Spirit. Even if we are inarticulate, the Father is aware of our needs through the immanent experience we have of the power of the Spirit. The Spirit intercedes “for the saints,” but only in accord with the will of God. When our words are incapable of articulating our greatest needs to God in prayer, the Spirit calls out to God for us.[12] Paul will write of the Spirit in a similar way in I Corinthians 2:6-16, where the Spirit is the way God communicates revelation, wisdom, and gifts. In 4:1-5, judgment from God is what matters, in contrast to judgment from others. In II Corinthians 3:4-6, Paul stresses that any competence he has is due to the new covenant written in the Spirit that gives life. The closeness of the Spirit to our weakness puts us in the position of those who hope when we do not see. We can wait patiently during the night longing for morning to come. The Spirit who helps us is the Spirit by whom God has poured into us the love of God in Chapter 5.[13] The Spirit is the personal center of Christian action. As such, those in Christ re-center their lives away from self outside themselves to the power the Spirit gives them. The Spirit becomes a personal center of power as those in Christ walk in and live by the Spirit. Those in Christ have found the ground of their lives beyond themselves.[14] This leadership of the Spirit is of a personal sort. Those in Christ, those who participate in Christ and are in union with Christ, live in the sphere of this spiritual power. Paul is careful to provide moral and institutional guidance in a way that provides some structure, but we must always be aware that he also expected the power of the Spirit to provide leadership in new ways.[15]

One way to view the biblical notion of the Spirit (Holy Spirit, Spirit of God) is that God is the source of life-giving energy we need. Life has its ups and downs, twists and turns, that can leave us weary. That means, of course, that we need to develop our time with God. As individuals, we need energy as well to live our lives. Most of us do not miss the time for physical nourishment. As the saying goes, call me anything, but do not call me late for supper. Most of us make sure we have made time for friends and family. We are social creatures, after all. However, when it comes to seeing the feeding of mind and soul as important, we tend to be less diligent. We need to remember that when we are weak, “the Spirit helps us in our weakness.” (Romans 8:26). The Holy Spirit strengthens and improves our prayer lives, creating a direct channel between ourselves and God. Such intercession makes it possible for us to pray as we ought, for the Spirit gives us both the words we need and the assurance that God hears them. God is already penetrating our hearts, filling us with divine power. The Spirit is at work within us, to do God's will and bring about God's new creation. Paul assures us that we are not powerless victims, vulnerable to all the struggles and heartaches of life. No, our powerful and creative God is at work inside us.



[1] If we could read the secret history of our enemies, we would find in each man's life sorrow and suffering enough to disarm all hostility. - Henry Wordsworth Longfellow
[2] Weil, Simone. "The love of God and affliction." Waiting for God. New York: G.P. Putnam's Sons, 1951.
[3] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume II, 136-37, 138-39, 231.
[4] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.3 [73.1], 913-4.
[5] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume III, 175.
[6] Paul Tillich, Chapter 18, “Waiting,” The Shaking of the Foundations
[7] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.3 [73.1], 913-4.
[8] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology Volume III, 175.
[9] Pannenberg, Systematic Theology, Volume II, 136-37, 138-39, 231.
[10] Barth, Church Dogmatics, III. 4 [53.3], 100.
[11] Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, Volume III, 116-17.
[12] Pannenberg, Jesus God and Man, 176.
[13] Barth, Church Dogmatics, IV.2 [64.4], 330.
[14] Pannenberg, Jesus God and Man, 177.
[15] Paul Tillich, Systematic Theology, Volume III, 116-17.

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