Main Idea: When you can’t see the purpose of the pain, wait for the promise.

Introduction: Sometimes being the pastor of a church is just a hoot, especially in my relationship with small children. Their fascination with "Bro. Bruce" is something that is one of the most amazing and wonderful aspects of my job. Here are some examples:

• William Frierson and Nathan Scholtens (Pre-K kids) not being able to eat on Wednesday night until I greet them.
• Sam Edwards raising his foot to show me his new shoes announcing to me, "They came from the store!" (as opposed to coming from his older brother).
• Madison Scherlin seeing me in Wal-Mart in September and asking me, "Have you seen Santa Claus?"
• Emma Raulston saying, "Hey, Brother Bruce" from one end of the table, throwing her "supper hands" around my suit pants.
• Ferrell Redding inviting Ross and me to his three-year old birthday party – and going!
• Matt Barber standing on a mound of dirt, proclaiming himself "on top of the mountain" and instructing Wesley Rogers that "You can’t come up because I haven’t called your name yet."

As funny as those are, children are often bothered about things that are even disturbing to adults. Ryan Nix, three years old pushing four, (whose favorite song, by the way, is "Happy Birthday") lost his great grandfather Hardy Nix this past year. Struggling with the absence of someone so revered and loved, he asked his grandmother Evie, "Jesus could have had anybody he wanted, why did he have to take my Pop?"

Another child, who is five, has suddenly become deeply troubled about a world that is unsure and uncertain. Waking in the night terrified about getting older, having her next birthday, becoming 13, having enough food in heaven, knowing that when dogs die they don’t come back, looking for answers that aren’t easy to give.

These days since September 11 have forced all of us to ask deep questions. Questions about the problem of a world so filled with violence, pain and suffering. Wondering what assurances we have about the kind of world we are facing. Struggling to know how to go on with our lives and our future in spite of the questions and uncertainties. This morning there’s a message for these very issues found in our text for this morning. What these words from Paul tell us is that when you can’t see the purpose of the pain wait for the promise.

Paul finishes Romans 8:17 with the words, "But if we are to share his glory, we must also share his suffering." Then he says, "Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will give us later." I want us to focus on the words, "what we suffer now."

Paul is not reluctant to identify the human condition as one that currently is plagued with the reality of life being one of suffering. Three times in this passage he alludes to our current circumstances as being less than ideal. In Romans 8:20 he describes everything on earth as being under or subject to God’s curse. He’s referring to the time after Adam and Eve disobeyed God in the Garden of Eden. They were exiled from the garden and were told that all the natural world would join them in paying the price for their disobedience. (Genesis 3:14-19).

Then in Romans 8:21 he defines our present existence as being one bound by "death and decay." (NASV "corruption," NIV "decay") You don’t have to think very hard to recognize that’s a description of what we face in this world. When the smoke still rises from the World Trade Center, the cities of Afghanistan and people are buying gas masks because of anthrax on a keyboard, you understand this world is a world of "death and decay."

Then in Romans 8:23 Paul says we live in a world chained by "pain and suffering." (NASV "the redemption of our body") What Paul refers to is that our present life is faced with certain realities that are left over from God’s curse of the planet and people because of Adam and Eve’s disobedience. Those realities are: life will never be easy, life will never last and life will never be without pain. These realities enslave us and chain us until Jesus Christ sets us free.

The problem we all live with is pain. The whole natural world is faced with it. There is a deadly principle that is part of our existence that people and things don’t last forever. As long as we breathe, something and someone is going to hurt. Now aren’t you glad you came?

That is what Paul means when he says, "Yet what we suffer now is nothing to be compared to the glory he will give us later" (v. 18). Paul refers to an event somewhere in our future that has the capability of making everything we experience now seem as "nothing" ("not worthy" NASV). What could there be that could cause such a change? What could happen in our future that would have such a transforming effect on our perspective of pain and suffering? Paul just calls it "the glory he will give us later." What is the "glory he will give us later"?

What Paul is describing is the wonderful promise of how God will complete our salvation when Jesus comes again. The Bible teaches us several things about the life that is to come for us. The moment a Christian dies their spirit immediately goes to be with Jesus in heaven. 2 Cor. 5:8 says, "Yes, we are fully confident, and we would rather be away from these bodies, for then we will be at home with the Lord." That is not all, for God has so planned our life in eternity that we will not be complete until our spirit receives a new body. When Jesus returns to this earth in bodily form those who have died and those who are alive will receive a new body. That body will be like Jesus’ body after he was resurrected. "Christ was raised first; then when Christ comes back, all his people will be raised…It will happen in a moment, in the blinking of an eye, when the last trumpet is blown. For when the trumpet sounds, the Christians who have died will be raised with transformed bodies. And then we who are living will be transformed so that we will never die. (I Cor.15:23, 52). 1 Thes. 4:16 says, "For the Lord himself will come down from heaven with a commanding shout, with the call of the archangel, and with the trumpet call of God. First, all the Christians who have died will rise from their graves."

When God made Adam and Eve he made them so that they had bodies. You and I don’t know how to think of ourselves without a body. So God says, "What I am going to do is assure you that when my Son returns to earth I will give to all Christians a brand new body. When I do that everyone will know who my children are. (Rom 8:19) My children will never worry about death and decay (Rom. 8:21). I will give them a body that will not be subjected to earthly, temporary limits but prepared for heaven and all eternity." (Rom. 8:23)

The question I’m sure is on your mind is, "So?" You face difficulties now, pain now, sorrow now, death now, grief now and struggles now. Why should you have any concern about later when you have all you can deal with now? That is our problem. We only see now and not forever! Our story is not just written in terms of the present and immediate. It is written in terms of the yet to come and will never end.

In the film The Shawshank Redemption, Ellis Boyd "Red" Redding (Morgan Freeman), tells the story of Andy Dufresne (Tim Robbins)—a young, successful banker wrongly convicted of murdering his wife in 1947 and sentenced to two consecutive life terms at Shawshank Prison.

Half way through the film, an old con, Brooks Hadlin, becomes enraged and threatens to take another inmate’s life—holding a makeshift knife at the inmate’s throat. A few tense moments later, Red and Andy persuade Brooks to lay down his knife. That’s when they discover that Hadlin had just received word that his parole was finally approved. The mere thought of freedom outside the prison walls was enough to send Books over the edge.

Later, discussing it in the prison yard, an inmate concludes that Brooks had "bugged out," gone mad. Red quickly disagrees: "Brooks ain’t no bug! He’s just…institutionalized. The man’s been in here 50 years—50 years! This is all he knows. In here, he’s an important man. He’s an educated man. Outside, he’s nothing, just a used up con with arthritis in both hands. Probably couldn’t get a library card if he tried. You know what I’m trying to say? You believe whatever you want…but I’m telling you, these walls are funny. First, you hate them, then you get used to them. Enough time passes…you get so you depend on them. That’s institutionalized." (The Shawshank Redemption – Castle Rock, 1994)

We get, as Christians, "institutionalized" by this world. We let the walls of our limits, pain, sorrow, grief, tears, sickness and death keep us from recognizing that there is freedom outside the walls. "Enough time passes…you get so you depend on them." Paul’s words to us are to see the "walls" one day are coming down! When that happens we will be free!

Go back to verse 18: "Yet what we suffer now is nothing compared to the glory he will give us later." It is the promise of what God will do that changes the perspective on the pain. Over and over in these verses Paul describes an emotion as well as a perspective that all believers are to have about what is to come. He says that what is to come is so absolutely unbelievable that it eclipses our current pain and suffering, making it seem nothing. Mother Teresa said, "In light of heaven, the worst suffering on earth, a life full of the most atrocious tortures on earth, will be seen to be no more serious than one night in an inconvenient hotel." A Case for Faith, p. 47).

Often a couple’s first child is the hardest to deliver. Dr. Joe Ledbetter said that it is like "getting olives out of a jar, the first ones takes a while but the rest come pretty easy." That was not true for us. Jennifer was pretty quick while Amy was about 8-10 hours. Jennifer and Amy were born during the "natural childbirth era" which is the medical professions definition for "a bullet and shot of red-eye". At one point during that long labor my rhythm got off in counting for Kathy during contractions. I tried to encourage her to work with me. She shared her heart with me that I "couldn’t count"! Which brought howls from the nurse and doctor. We had been at it all night. It was about 8:30 on a Saturday morning and our friends and family were waiting outside with us. We longed for Amy to be delivered and waited for that moment with all the intensity of our lives. Finally she was born and you know what? The pain of labor was overcome by the joy of the birth!

Paul tells us that all creation is waiting eagerly for that day, anticipates the day and is groaning for that day (Rom.8: 19, 21,22). We are to also long for that day, wait anxiously for that day, eagerly look forward to that day, hope for it and wait patiently and confidently (Rom.8:23-25). The language Paul uses describes a person waiting on tiptoe for that day. Our response is to wait for it like a child waiting for Christmas morning. Aching for it like a woman giving birth. Look forward to it like a prisoner looks forward to being free. Hurting for it like a person who wants to be healed. Waiting for the promise transforms the picture of the pain. We are to do that now—in spite of the pain and suffering that are all around us. That is what makes us different.

Conclusion: I read recently the story of the iron cross found in the wreckage of the World Trade Center. The cross is 20 feet tall and was originally part of the girders of World Trade Center Tower One. It was found two days after September 11 standing upright in World Trade Center Building 6. It was moved to its original location of Building One on Wednesday, Oct. 3. Workers hoisted the cross atop a 40-foot high foundation, formerly a pedestrian walkway. Construction workers, firefighters and police officers stood quietly by as the Rev. Brian Jordan blessed it with holy water. "Behold the glory of the cross at ground zero,'' Jordan said. "This is our symbol of hope, our symbol of faith, our symbol of healing."

That cross is a picture of another cross from 2000 years ago that stood at another ground zero outside the walls of Jerusalem. There it seemed was the end of all hope. Yet it was the promise of God that where pain is the deepest I am deeper still. My friends even when all else is removed from us that makes sense there is still the cross of Jesus Christ. A world marvels at the sight and stands in awe of its power. That cross reminds us that there is one who recognizes our pain, who receives our pain, who has risen above our pain and will return that there will be no more pain. For that one we wait. Waiting for that promise though transforms our picture of our pain.

Sunday, October 14, 2001

Dr. Bruce Tippit, Pastor

First Baptist Church

Jonesboro, Arkansas

[email protected]